


Tatooine Has 13 Words for That

by JackHawksmoor



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Tatooine Slave Culture, sad murder dad, the power of optimism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 48,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23185000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackHawksmoor/pseuds/JackHawksmoor
Summary: Post-Bespin AU  -Vader finds Luke just a little too early, Luke is just a little too reckless, and they were both raised in a culture that cares just a little too much about blood relatives. Add these things together, and everything changes.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Comments: 274
Kudos: 849
Collections: Yubi SW





	1. Chapter 1

It was a whole new class of ship. They'd known the Empire was building something special, but _seeing it_...

“Look at the size of that thing!” Wedge inched to one side, so Luke could get a better look at the screen. ' _Executor_ -class'. The name hadn't sounded particularly intimidating. 

"It'll take a miracle to get us out of here," Wedge added. "It’s got to have at least 12 squadrons of TIEs on board.”

_Size._

Luke's mind went dead silent in the pure simple shock of the idea. He was suddenly a little breathless. After a moment he nodded to himself, and hopped down off Wedge's X-Wing into the grass. He quietly stepped clear of the ship. If this was going to work, Wedge would need space to take off.

The sky over their heads was dark and perfectly clear. Luke tilted his head back, trying to see the bright little speck of the Super Star Destroyer in orbit. In reality, the ship was massive beyond all reason, but from the ground, it was hard to spot. He stretched out with his feelings, searching. _There._

Luke lifted his hand.

“You’ll make it,” he told Wedge.

“What?” Wedge asked. He shoved himself up out of the cockpit, landing on the grass with a thump. “Luke, what are you doing, we need to go-”

Luke shut his eyes, and reached. And reached. 

From far away, an echo through the Force brought him voices from the past.

_I can’t believe it!_

_That, is why you fail._

This time, he believed.

“Get out of here, Wedge, get back to your ship,” Luke said. He suddenly felt like he’d gotten a grip on something. Or something had a grip on him. It felt like something oddly important was about to happen. Like he was...bigger than he should be.

His father was up there, on that _Executor_ -class ship. Luke had felt him close and had started the evacuation immediately. It had been a serious situation, that Vader was near; Luke remembered that, but all of a sudden the concern seemed small. Just one part of a very big whole.

Beneath Luke’s feet, the ground lurched.

Far above them, his father staggered against the viewport.

“What about...you…” Wedge was looking at him with something like awe. Or maybe fear? Luke didn’t know what he looked like to put that expression on Wedge's face, but he didn’t have any spare concentration to think about it.

There was a metallic taste in his mouth. He felt stretched and strange, but he _believed_.

“Get the rest of the squad and go. I can hold them until you escape.”

“Hold who?” Wedge exclaimed. “Luke, that’s a Star Dreadnought!”

'Star Dreadnought', Luke thought faintly, was a much more intimidating name than ' _Executor_ -class'. The Imps had done pretty well picking that one out.

Luke could feel that Star Dreadnought, every inch of her. He could hear the warning klaxons going off on the bridge, feel the scream of her engines and the flat shock of the crew. They couldn't understand what was holding them in place, what was keeping them from launching their TIEs. 300,000 people, all scrambling.

“Size matters not,” Luke said softly. 

His heart thudded once, hard in his chest, and there was a sudden sharp crack of thunder that roared through the sky in time with it. 

_Must be a storm coming._

Wet planets were so weird. He never could get used to them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Wedge was suddenly on the ground for some reason, looking frightened. Luke couldn’t guess why. Though, he thought he might be vibrating, or shaking. The ground was shaking. Maybe that was it.

He risked a glance at Wedge. “I can hold them.”

Luke was a live wire in the Force. He didn’t even need to reach out to feel that Wedge believed him right down to the bottom of his soul.

“You’ll catch up to us.” Wedge said with conviction, scrambling to his feet. “I’d say you could damn near do anything.”

He took off running.

_Not long now._

Vader had left the bridge. He was headed for the flight deck, the ship thrumming around him. The deck was vibrating. And the walls. People threw themselves against those walls to get out of his path as he charged down the hallway, they were so _afraid_ of him...

Luke could feel the shape of him in the Force; At the moment he could feel the shape of everything in the Force. His father was as frightened as his crew, but for different reasons. He was reeling and deafened and he could not believe his own senses. The Force was ringing like a bell.

_My son..._

His voice was shocked, and there was something like horror rising in his mind. Lifting itself from the blackened core of his rage and changing him before Luke’s eyes. There was something there _,_ underneath the fury and the darkness. The knowledge hit Luke’s heart hard.

_Father._

He was suffering, under that darkness. He was _Anakin_ , under that darkness.

The Force was rising in a pillar of energy all around Luke, bright and shining like a star, and in that moment he felt a flicker of light within Darth Vader answer its call.

The rebel ships were clear of the planet, ready for light speed. Wedge’s voice was shaking a little at what he was seeing. 

_Not long now._

Vader was afraid. Vader was afraid for him.

_Stop this. Luke, you must stop this!_

_Not yet._

He thought something might be tearing inside, but it didn’t matter. He felt the last of the rebel ships hit hyperspace. They were safe.

Luke let his grip on the Force go like he was releasing a bird into the sky. For a moment it lingered, soaking into his skin, and he felt his father’s emotions roar toward flat panic. He was reaching for Luke like he was in danger of following the Force when it faded from him, of soaring off into the sky forever.

It sounded nice, Luke thought, dazed.

They were far apart, but Luke reached out to Vader anyway, reacting to the desperation his father was radiating. It just felt like the right thing to do. Sudden, ludicrous affection stamped itself cleanly across the distance. Luke sensed that was right, too. He was so centered in Force at that moment, he felt like he could see more clearly than he ever had in his life. 

The Force had certainly played a strange trick, seeing to it that Luke was raised on Tatooine. His Aunt Beru had been unknowingly ruining the plans of Jedi for years while Luke played with dolls at her feet, while he helped her with chores, while she sat on his bed at night telling him stories. She'd told him he should never forget that he was the first freeborn Skywalker, that he should be _proud_ of that. Family on Tatooine meant everything. A slave family might be separated, might not meet their parents or children again for years. Children taken young might never remember meeting their parents at all. There were 13 separate words for ‘found-again-family’ on Tatooine. Another nine for ‘torn-away-family’.

It was funny, Luke thought; Of all the places Obi-wan could have taken him to grow up, he picked the one world where Luke would be guaranteed to be taught that the proper reaction to finding a long-lost relative was to grab hold of them with everything he had, right down to his soul. There were four words for that, in fact.

In that one giddy, lightheaded moment, Luke took the hand his father was extending and said one of those words to him. It was precisely the right thing to do; He could feel it as if the Force was wearing him like skin.

Fighting Vader was pointless. Love would be the end of him. The end of all of it. Luke could _see_ it.

The brief moment of warmth sent his father reeling.

“Isn’t that something,” Luke said with a breath of disbelieving humor at the situation. After all, who could love Darth Vader?

Luke fell to his knees, and wondered vaguely why the ground was torn up beneath him. He’d felt something tearing, but he didn’t think it had been the grass. The Force was father away now, flying high and free and something awful started to crowd in as it left. Everything hurt.

 _I’m coming for you._ _Luke, I’m coming for you._

It should have been terrifying. Vader sounded terrified. Luke collapsed back into the grass and the torn up dirt. He looked up at the sky and thought briefly of flying away.

 _It sounds nice_ , he thought, and then he didn’t think anything.

\-------------------------------------

The roaring flames of power around his son went out with a terrifying sense of fulfillment, of _finality_. Vader stopped dead in the center of the hangar bay.

_No-_

He reached out in desperation, his heart screaming in self-recrimination that he did not have a stronger bond with his son. It was not Obi-wan who was trying to take Luke away this time, it was the Force itself. If they were closer he could anchor the boy, hold him back, he had seen it done once with a fool who had allowed himself to be drawn into the Force too deeply. His son was a fool, but in this case it was not his foolishness that put him in danger. He’d sensed the lack of fear Luke had felt; His son was completely unknowing, and powerful, _so_ powerful. Obi-wan had been a _useless_ old man and had never warned the boy of anything _, Vader would kill him ten times over if he could-_

Against all reason, his son responded to him as if he had grown up at Vader’s side all his life. In one stunning, brief moment Vader tasted what they could have been, what they still could be. They pulled Luke away from the edge together and all he could feel from the boy was a warm affection larger than the world they orbited. 

Luke was deeply tangled in the Force, and there were fractured possibilities and a sense of sightthrough every inch of him. He was having a vision at that exact moment, as Vader connected with him. Vader had never even heard of such a thing, but regardless of the impossibility, he caught that Luke made a choice that altered his path. Both their paths. Luke surfaced from the vision shining at him like a sun, and said a word Vader had not heard in a long, long time.

Vader nearly fell on the deck.

He caught himself on the edge of his own TIE fighter, shaken. Luke had drawn back, consciousness fluttering, and Vader was left groping blindly with the tangled, aching threads of his own emotions.

“Lord Vader-”

He turned with a snarl toward the officer who had dared to come close. The officer wisely flinched.

“Lord Vader, the captain wishes to inform you that the engines are back on line and the structural effects of the...tractor beam are gone.” His tone of voice implied doubt in the captain's assessment of what had held the ship in place and nearly shaken her apart. “The rebel ships have gone into hyperspace, and he would like to know if we should pursue.”

Of course they had escaped. Of course his son had done this for them. 

“No,” Vader said. “The rebels are nothing. There is something far more valuable down on that planet, and I will have it.” He swept his hand and snapped the cables tethering his TIE fighter to the deck. The officer recoiled.

“Have a shuttle prepared with emergency medical equipment to follow me down to my destination. Tell the captain, if he does not personally ensure they arrive immediately, he will _wish_ this ship had been torn apart.”

Impossibly, his son was still alive. He could feel it. But when Vader reached out it was very clear that Luke was faint, and fading. There was more than one reason why what his son had done was dangerous. He could feel the boy dying, and he was suddenly not certain his sanity would survive it. His son cared for him. The warmth he’d felt from Luke was fresh and sweet in his mind. It was something he would not have believed could happen.

_I’m coming for you. Luke, I’m coming for you._

_\------------------------------------------------------_

On the short flight down to the planet, Vader kept his feelings pinned in place, any attention not spared in piloting wholly focused on the failing life of his son. The Force was howling dire warnings at him so loudly he would have known the boy was in danger half a galaxy away.

When Vader found him, Luke was lying in a crater ten meters across. Around him, for at least a hundred meters in all directions, every tree had been knocked flat. As though an explosion had gone off precisely where his son had been standing. Vader marveled at the sight.

 _Such power_.

At that exact moment, as he approached, his son’s candle guttered, and he stopped breathing.

The Force lurched around Vader, as panic fought with rage. 

“No,” he said, feeling a surge of hate toward a universe that seemed set on taking everything away from him. _This would not be borne_. 

In that moment, his fury made him very strong.

The dark side did not meld well with healing, no matter what his master had promised him before he turned. They had never found a way to keep death at bay; At least, not that his master had told him.

There were times, however, when someone powerful in the Force could make manifest what had never been taught or discovered. Desperation could sing a song the Force could not resist.

Vader turned his will to it with all the rage he had ever felt in his heart. Rage and...another emotion he did not want to look at closely.

Something poured forth that was not the pure dark he expected. It was not the light, either. It was a wild, tangled mix of something, with a towering strength that shocked him. It was not fueled by his rage; At least, not entirely. 

He pushed it at his son, wrapping him in the strange, chaotic roar of power.

At his feet, his son breathed. Vader _made_ him breathe. It took an extraordinary amount of effort, not just to fill his lungs, but to keep the spark of his life in place. Vader gave it everything, everything he had. He could feel that Luke wanted to fly free, to join the Force forever. Vader _would not_ allow it.

Vader went down on one knee, his hand outstretched over his son’s chest. His own life support systems started flashing warnings at him. It was as if he was a TIE fighter trying to pull the planet off its axis with hope and a tow cable. He couldn’t possibly stand firm for more than a moment; Already it felt as though he were tearing himself in half.

 _Luke_ , he thought desperately.

He would pull Luke back, or Luke would pull him forward, Vader decided. Nothing else was acceptable.

Luke’s life force sparked under his hand, flames flickering from the ashes, almost as if he’d heard. Something shifted, coming down on the side of life with a sigh. He felt Luke settle, felt his longing to join the Force fade. Shaken, Vader let his grip on his son relax.

Luke continued to breathe on his own, as if there had never been any danger of him stopping.

Vader clenched his fists, triumphant. Luke was weak, but he was alive. Vader had done what his master could not. He had kept Luke from dying, had done what he’d sworn to do for Luke’s mother, all those years ago. For the first time in years, he thought of her face without pain.

 _See what I have done for us,_ he thought, exultant. _For our son._

Vader was so elated that when the medical shuttle finally landed- at least ten minutes after it should have arrived- he spared the pilot’s life without a second thought.

\----------------------------------

Luke spent nearly a week in a bacta tank. Vader had cleared the corridors when he’d arrived on board the _Executor_ , and placed Luke in the medical station in his private wing. Only a handful of people knew Vader had brought someone on board, and no-one knew that someone was his son.

He had to hide as much as he could for as long as he could. His master had a long reach.

Vader spent a great deal of time near his son, for more than one reason. He recalled from lessons and warnings long ago that a dangerously profound immersion in the Force could leave a Force user confused and dangerous for a time. If Luke awoke early he might be...unlike himself. Vader might be needed there, to restrain him. 

He doubted anyone on board the _Executor_ was suspicious of his behavior; It was not entirely unlike him to withdraw for a time, if there were no pressing matters that needed his attention. Regardless of who he had hidden away, his officers knew very well that disturbing him without cause was taking their lives into their hands.

Sometime during the sixth day, Vader sat by his son’s tank and carefully stretched out with his feelings. He was not precisely drawing on the dark side. He had discovered the hatred he required was more difficult to draw upon while seated before his son. Vader had also discovered that once he had brought that hatred forth, the strength of the dark side was potent enough to disturb the boy in the tank.

He still wished to turn his son. However, influencing him in that direction while his mind was clouded and the Force was still hovering so close to him was unwise. Vader had discovered this accidentally when drawing on the dark side to aid in his meditation, to better reach out to the boy. Luke had visibly flinched inside the tank and crushed the medical droid, grinding the remains into the deck. The second time Vader attempted it he was watching more closely, and clearly saw his son lash out reflexively, without thought or purpose. It might have focused upon him, but Vader pushed back, deflecting it. Three decks above them, one of his minor officers dropped dead, his neck snapped.

It was impressive. 

Vader was not a cautious man, but even he had to admit that continuing to experiment on his son in that way was foolish.

So he sat before Luke and opened himself carefully, without rage or malice, displaying more patience than he had in years. The Force still felt somewhat wild close to him, and Vader wanted badly to check on his welfare, to get some sense of his mind. There were...unpleasant possibilities. He was also curious if the situation could be put to their advantage. He had never felt the Force react in this way, and if what he had already accomplished was any indication, it could be used in unexpectedly powerful ways. 

_We must seize every advantage we can._

His loyalties had shifted around a new focus point. “We” now meant Vader and his son. The change had first begun when he learned of his son’s existence, years ago. A slight shifting of balance that his master had warned him against. The final push came the moment his son had reached out to him through the Force, when Vader had extended a hand and Luke had taken it with that impossible rush of affection. Vader pulled, and Luke followed, and when Vader stood alone once more he was orbiting an entirely different star.

His master had tried to keep them apart, just as Obi-wan had, Vader thought with a flash of rage. Obi-wan for fear of Vader’s influence on his son, and his master for his son’s influence on him. Now Obi-wan was gone, and his master would soon follow.

Slowly, he lifted his hand, resting it flat against the tank. It was a silent physical representation of the effort he made, stretching out with his feelings toward the peacefully unconscious presence of his son.

 _He will join me,_ Vader thought to himself, and it was not merely a desire or a vow. Something rang clear and true through the Force at the thought. 

His master had the gift of incredible foresight, and though Vader had seen the future himself from time to time, his true talents did not lie there. However, in that moment of calm, the veils parted before him and he saw clearly, clearer than anything he had ever foreseen. 

His son would stand by his side. Clothed in black and walking beside him. Loyal to him, and flashing outrage and disgust at the mention of his master. They would destroy him together.

Exultation roared in his heart. Luke would turn, and they would destroy the Emperor _together_.

The bond between Vader and his son was suddenly flung wide. Just slightly, his son opened his eyes in the tank. His mind was calm. Undamaged. Luke frowned and put his hand against the glass, reaching out tentatively with his feelings.

Vader felt a surge of triumph.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Luke looked up at his father from the recovery cot. It felt like a great deal of time had passed, or none at all.

“We’ve met already, haven’t we, Father?” he asked, for a point of reference. Then, hesitantly, “Anakin Skywalker?” He felt like someone had put all his thoughts in a bottle and shaken it very hard. 

Vader stared at him for a moment. It suddenly felt like he was uneasy. “Yes, my son.” _Truth._ “That is the name of a fool long dead,” _lie, “_ but I am your father.” _Truth._

_Interesting._

“Hmm,” Luke said thoughtfully, nodding. He looked around. There was something missing. “Where’s the Emperor’s body then? Did you get rid of it?”

Vader’s chief emotion switched to curiosity. “He lives,” Vader said, as though he was personally preparing his coffin regardless of that fact.

“Oh,” Luke said, getting a handle on things. He looked right in Vader’s eyes and smiled slightly. “Not long now.”

“What have you seen?” Vader said, his focus going sharp. 

Luke was about to make a comment about seeing that Vader’s helmet needed a bit of a polish, but stopped, which was probably good for his health. Seen through the force, Luke realized. 

_That’s right, there’s a difference._

“I saw…” Luke trailed off, frowning faintly. “The Emperor’s building a new Death Star,” he said, and looked at his father for confirmation.

“That is not known by many,” Vader said carefully. “It would be wise not to speak of it.”

“He’ll be there,” Luke looked into the distance with a smile. “We’ll get him there.”

“The Emperor does not often leave Coruscant,” Vader said slowly. Luke could sense his mind going over the possibilities, a machine turning silently and half-seen in the darkness. “If you are correct, there would be no better opportunity.”

“He’ll leave for this. He thinks he knows what’s going to happen, but he’s wrong.” Luke reached up and took his father’s arm as he would take Wedge’s arm, or Han’s, forgetting for a moment the difference between what they were to each other and what he’d seen them become. He flashed his father a grin. “ _He can’t see me anymore_.”

“Then we shall destroy him,” Vader said, with a boiling hot cloud of pure vicious delight. “I will teach you the ways of the dark side, and the galaxy will be ours.”

There was something behind those words, something else. _As it always should have been_ and _as it should have been hers_.

The link between them was so clear Luke could almost pluck the thoughts right out of his father’s head.

“I don’t want to rule the galaxy,” Luke said, and the Force rang brightly with the truth in his words.

Vader straightened a little, anger rising hot around a bright little pinprick of fear. His right fist clenched.

“But I’ll stand at your side against the Emperor, Father.” The words were precisely as true as the previous ones.

Maybe it was the ‘father’. The shell of anger around Vader’s fear cracked as the fear expanded beyond its boundaries. His father was thinking, in dismay, that he might have misunderstood something that he’d seen. Luke didn’t know what that was, but the thought of it had terror roaring through Vader in an expanding wave.

Found-again-family must be held tightly and loved fiercely, because one never knew if they might be taken away again. Anakin Skywalker had been raised on Tatooine, too.

“Without the power of the dark side, you cannot hope to face him and live,” Vader said.

“I think you’re wrong,” Luke said.

“Luke…” Vader said, his amplified voice forbidding.

“If I turned to the dark side,” Luke began, ignoring how Vader straightened in hope at the words, “Would I still be myself? Would I care who was my father, or if he lived or died fighting the Emperor?”

There was a long silence. “It is the way of the Sith, my son,” Vader said finally. “In the end, you would destroy me as well, and take your place as the Master.” 

He actually sounded proud.

“What does it matter if I survive fighting the Emperor if I’m already dead?” Luke said simply. He leaned toward him, eyes narrowed. “That’s what you said, isn’t it? Anakin Skywalker is dead? Obi-wan said that like he knew everything there was to know about it, and I thought he _lied_ to me.” Luke’s voice went hard and unpleasant at the end. He was shamelessly goading Vader, which was probably an incredibly stupid thing to do, even for him. Luke didn’t believe that 'Anakin is dead' crap for a second, though, and he wasn't about to let his father lie about something so important. Deep down, even Vader didn't really believe it. He just needed to admit it to himself. 

Vader instinctively snarled at the mention of Obi-wan. “Obi-wan knew _nothing_ of me.” _Truth-no, lie_. _No, wait-_

“His death was far kinder than he deserved,” he continued. _Truth. Hmmm._

“He wanted me to see you do it, I think,” Luke said, thoughtfully. “To watch you kill him. He put his hands up and died so I would want to kill you.” Luke sighed, folded his arms. “Well, I’m not going to do that, and I’m not going to put my hands up and turn so I can kill the Emperor in order to become him.”

Anakin Skywalker might not have died, but diving headfirst off into the abyss sure hadn’t done him any favors. If Luke had any choice, he would prefer just about anything to that.

Vader’s shoulders dropped, and Luke was shocked at the wave of hopelessness that rolled off him. “Then we will fail,” he said, as if the Emperor was already standing over them, victorious.

Luke grabbed him by the shoulders, his hands on cold black armor. He had to reach up; His father was so tall, the position almost made him feel like a child. “No, Father,” he said, with his whole heart in his voice. “I’ve seen it.” He poured his confidence into the bond humming between them. “I can’t explain it, but I know,” he squeezed his father’s shoulders, broadcasting ‘affection’ and ‘family’, not sure he could feel the expression of support but doing it anyway, “I _know,_ you’re wrong.”

There was a long silence. Then, very slightly, Luke felt him lean into the warmth Luke was projecting towards him. Vader lifted a hand slowly and rested it on Luke’s arm, accepting the reassurance without a single word.

“Perhaps," he said hesitantly. "There may be..." he stopped, thinking. "Perhaps," he settled on.

It was, considering who was speaking, a monumental concession. 

Luke grinned.


	2. Chapter 2

Luke hadn't seen his father in well over a month, and hadn't spoken to him in weeks. Given that, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised by his surroundings. It wasn't the first time Luke had dreamed himself into this place, but his father was always involved.

At least, he thought it was a dream. He couldn't actually recall falling asleep any of the times he'd ended up there. 

The surroundings made Luke uneasy. Everything had a reddish tinge, like he was looking at it through colored lenses. The sky was impossibly packed with stars. The ground was as smooth and ominous-looking as the black ice that had occasionally slicked the deck under his X-wing back on Hoth. The stars reflected against the surface, essentially doubling the sky. 

It might conceivably have been beautiful to someone, Luke supposed. He found it kind of nauseating. 

His father was watching him.

"You can come out," Luke said. "I know you're there."

The landscape fluttered in a slightly sickening way, the sky and the ground suddenly not as divided as they had been. Vader appeared as if he'd just stepped out from behind an infinitely starry and irritatingly dizzying curtain.

The first time Luke had found himself there, he was a year out from the Battle of Yavin.

He'd stood and stared up at the sky, bewildered and sick to his stomach and for the briefest moment he'd thought he'd seen something ripple through the landscape, like the illusion of water shimmering on hot desert sands. It had felt like pure anguish, like shock and white-hot fury and it was somehow reaching out for him. The sensation had frightened him out of his mind.

He woke up before whatever-it-was got ahold of him. 

Later, he would look back and wonder if that had been the moment when his father had discovered who they were to each other. If he'd realized Luke was his son and thrown his shock and anguish into the Force like a rope that landed neatly in Luke's hands.

Luke had forgotten about the dream, until after he'd met Vader at Bespin, and had it again. 

Luke had been the one lurking then, his soul howling his anguish into the unnatural sky. He'd felt someone flinch, and the moment he turned to look, something in the landscape peeled away, and he stumbled to a halt in front of the last person he wanted to see. Vader had stared at him in shock. Luke had felt him pull back into himself and knew somehow it was a reflection of reality- Vader felt very small.

His prosthetic was missing. The artificial hand hadn't quite felt like a part of him yet. Vader had stared at it- at the place where Luke's hand should be.

"My son..." Vader had sounded vaguely strangled. Luke could tell something was different about him. Watching Luke throw himself toward death with a smile had changed the way Vader felt through the Force. At the time Luke didn't have the energy to wonder why.

 _Don't make me destroy you_. His father had said those words, ready to tear Luke to pieces. When Luke had a moment to think, and realized fully what that meant, it _had_ torn him to pieces. For a little while. 

His father wanted him dead. His father was alive, he was everything Luke had ever fought against, and he wanted Luke to join him or die. It was a lot to handle.

"Why are you here? Haven't you done enough?" Luke had demanded. 

As a child, he'd dreamed of his father. Wishing he hadn't died, that he would come and take Luke away from the lousy little moisture farm he was trapped on. On harder days Luke's dreams were simpler; He'd wished he could have at least met his father, if only once.

It was so much worse, knowing his father was alive, and didn't love him.

Vader had taken a step back, as though he'd heard the thought. "Luke..." He said it like it actually mattered to him what Luke thought. "You do not understand, I have no choice. I must-" - _obey my master_. Luke could hear it before Vader said it.

"You chose," Luke interrupted, but his heart rose up and choked him off.

Luke had told himself that it shouldn't feel like a betrayal. There was no reason Vader should care about him, should show him any consideration or loyalty, he was a Sith, so it shouldn't feel-

 _You chose to betray me._ The words had shivered out against his will. 

Vader reacted like he'd taken a punch, and Luke couldn't take any more. The dream shredded under his hands, and Luke woke up shaking.

His father had been hunting him for years. It was a joke in the Alliance, comparing how high the prices on their heads were. Luke was always the measuring point in those jokes. Everyone thought it was natural that the Empire wanted blood from the man who’d blown up the Death Star. The Rebellion even used it against them once or twice, dangling the possibility of capturing Luke Skywalker in front of the forces of the Empire in order to distract them at key moments. Luke had almost gotten used to being the Rebel pilot Darth Vader was obsessed with catching.

He wasn’t used to being hunted down in his own head. By his _father,_ Darth Vader. From the moment the dream ended, Vader seemed to have a sense of him that Luke couldn't completely block out. His obsession, his desperation - _it had been so confusing to realize it was desperation_ \- only grew. Vader never stopped reaching for him. Luke never stopped pushing him back.

It had only taken a minor miracle and a Force vision so strong Luke hadn't felt like himself for weeks, to get Luke to listen to what Vader was actually telling him. To see the secret he was giving away without realizing it.

_Love would be the end of him. The end of all of it._

Luke thought about that, about the other dreams he'd had in this place, and wondered at the significance of having another one now. Things had changed a great deal since the last time he'd stood there. He flexed his artificial hand slightly. It wasn't a surprise to him that it was there; It felt like part of him, now. Vader was obviously staring at it as he approached, and Luke was certain his father was remembering those other dreams, too.

Vader stopped an arm's length away, and very obviously looked Luke over, his mask tilting down and then back up. 

"You seem well," he said, as though he was perfectly willing to murder his way across the Empire to get to him if Luke told Vader he was mistaken. The protective concern behind his words would have stunned Luke off his feet six months ago.

Luke gave him an amused look. "Would you be able to tell, in here?"

"Yes," Vader said. He stared at Luke searchingly for a moment, and then folded his arms, radiating displeasure. "It would seem many of the finer points of your training have been neglected."

Luke frowned at him.

Vader tilted his head. "Am I well?" 

His voice was expectant. It was a tone of voice Luke had become very familiar with on Dagobah. His father was trying to _teach_ him something.

Luke opened his mouth, intending to be dismissive, but stopped. Yoda had asked him a lot of seemingly pointless questions that had ended up being important. Luke had progressed a lot faster once he'd stopped humoring Yoda and started treating everything he said seriously.

Luke drew back and looked at his father thoughtfully. He caught himself imitating his father's response, tilting his head and looking him over carefully. Vader seemed all right to his eyes, and the power of his presence in the Force was immediately recognizable. His father was a barely leashed hurricane crammed into a life support suit, but despite that he’d settled with an oddly peaceful familiarity into Luke's experience of the Force. Reaching out to him felt natural. 

It couldn't just be that Vader was his father; Luke felt the same kind of ease with Leia, too. He had wondered if the reason behind it was simple similarity. Leia actually felt a bit like Vader, in that terrifying-force-of-nature way, though Luke would have never told her that. Luke suspected, given how weirdly comfortable it felt to settle beside both of their presences in the Force, that his own presence must express itself like theirs did. He couldn't see any other explanation for it.

At the moment Vader's hurricane was roaring along steadily enough, but there was something strange...

Luke reached out tentatively with his feelings, stretching to find Vader outside the dreamspace, in the real world. He had to go a long way, which was a surprise. There was a kind of link between them that usually made distance immaterial. The faintest tendrils of it started growing after Bespin, and spontaneously grew thick roots the night Luke had accidentally almost killed himself, and his father had nearly died trying to stop him. 

Luke could always get a sense of Vader now, no matter where he was, if he took the time to focus. He'd never had to reach so hard before. His father had to be much further away than he'd expected... _Wait. No, not far away, just..._

Luke stiffened in shock.

"What happened," he demanded, startling his father. " _W_ _hat_ _happened_?"

"Ah," Vader dropped his arms. He sounded genuinely caught off guard. 

He’d expected Luke to just check on his presence in the Force, Luke realized, not how his actual physical body was doing. 

He was starting to think that kind of ‘limitation-by-assumption’ attitude was a general problem for Jedi. His father had been a Jedi first, after all. Yoda had the same problem a few times. Sometimes what Luke thought Yoda was asking him to do was very different from what he was actually asking Luke to do. It was as if he was used to teaching people who already knew the basics of what he meant to teach. The situation had worked in Luke's favor once or twice, surprising Yoda with something he wasn't expecting Luke to figure out. It had felt like an accomplishment to catch an experienced Force user flat-footed. Luke wasn't sure finding out his father was half-dead was the kind of unexpected achievement he was particularly pleased about.

Vader hooked his thumbs into his belt, straightening a little, and Luke got a faint sense that Vader was proud of him.

"I seem to have underestimated you." He sounded pleased. Vader waved a hand as if brushing aside Luke's question. "It's nothing of concern." He made some small effort to imitate the gesture in the Force, brushing at Luke dismissively.

Luke ignored it, his focus sharpening, his concern ratcheting up as his father's condition became clearer. His sense of his father's physical presence was alarmingly weak, weaker than Luke had ever felt him. 

"Nothing of concern?" Luke repeated incredulously. He could feel..."You're in a bacta tank right now, aren't you."

Vader hesitated. "I am well enough." 

The Force played a skincrawlingly discordant pair of notes.

Luke felt a chill. "You're lying," he accused. He took a step toward his father. "Where are you? I'm coming to get you."

"No! You cannot do that," Vader said forcefully, grabbing Luke by the shoulders. The gesture startled them both, but Vader didn't pull his hands back. His fears were coming forward all in a rush, great gouts of it pouring all around them.

Luke caught the briefest flash from his father's memory; The blue glow of a hologram, a swiftly hidden shock of remembered pain. His father shoved the memory aside as soon as he realized Luke was looking.

"Tell me what's going on," Luke demanded. "Or I'll wake myself up and come and find you. I couldn't hide from you now if I wanted to, and you can't hide from me either."

Luke did not strictly _know_ that was true. It felt true.

Vader squeezed his shoulders slightly, then let his hands fall away. There was a long pause before he spoke. "I have spoken with the emperor." 

Luke tensed.

"There was a disturbance in the Force," Vader continued, "and the emperor was suspicious."

"What do you mean, 'disturbance'?" Luke asked.

Vader was silent for a moment. "Strange," he said slowly, "that you have not felt it. The strength of it was considerable. In another time, I might have thought someone of great power had joined the Force."

_Oh._

"The emperor was suspicious that you had fallen and I had hidden it from him. He was satisfied with my confusion, that I had not. However, he was far too curious about my emotions regarding you. It was necessary to...distract him...with some measure of defiance," Vader continued. "He merely reminded me of my place."

Luke breathed out, long and slow.

Vader's voice turned hard and sarcastic. "I must obey my master."

Luke had to consciously unclench his fists. "Ok," he said, even though it wasn't. "How long will you be in the tank?"

"Perhaps a day." Vader's emotions lightened toward curiosity. "Why?" 

"I'm coming to you. I'm on Dagobah now but there's...nothing left for me to do here." Luke hesitated, taking a deep breath. 

Vader picked up on his mood, tensing a little.

"Master Yoda's dead," Luke said. The words put a deep ache in his heart. It wasn't just that he was gone; Luke hadn't exactly rushed back to Yoda after confronting Vader. He hadn't wanted to return until he could stay for good, until Han was safe. Luke was trying not to wonder if Yoda wouldn't have gotten so sick if Luke had been there sooner, or at least stopped by to check in.

His father shifted his weight slightly, as if Luke had pushed him back on his heels.

"Yoda," he repeated, bewildered.

"Yeah," Luke said softly.

There was a pause, and Luke could feel his father putting many things together, very fast. 

"' _Master'_ ," Vader said, with a strange little pinprick of fear. It was a question, and an accusation. _Your master?_ He didn't say it, but the question loomed large in his mind.

"He trained me," Luke replied carefully. "Yes. He started nearly a year ago." _Before Bespin. And after._

That little fear flashed white-hot, and something deep in his father's heart ignited dangerously. "He knew I was your father, but kept the truth from you." It wasn't a question. He didn't have to ask.

Luke felt something possessive settle lightly around him. The Force sent him the tiniest flutter of danger.

"He wished to turn you against me." Vader's fear was growing, anger following hot on its heels. "And yet you mourn him." Whatever was around Luke got a little more solid.

"Father-" Luke started.

"Do not lie to me," he thundered, pointing aggressively at Luke's face.

The warning from the Force started to increase in volume.

"I haven't," Luke said, outraged. "Yes, he wanted me to kill you. So did Obi-wan, for as much good as it did either of them."

The coil of power around Luke contracted in a rather unnerving way. "And did he wish for you to betray me now? To pretend to join me, and then destroy me. Was this Yoda's plan?"

"What?" Luke sputtered.

"Do. Not. LIE," Vader snarled at him. His rage poured out, and started to squeeze. "Did Yoda command you to complete the task he could not accomplish himself?"

Vader's fears broke free of his anger, wild and impossible to ignore. He was practically screaming them into the Force and Luke felt every one of them drive cleanly into his brain like rivets into a hangar deck. 

For years and years, Vader had nothing. There was no one left to protect, nothing else that could be taken from him. He obeyed his master's orders and tolerated his pretense at friendship, because the possibility of gaining the power he craved was all he had left. The fact that the reason he’d had for desiring that power was dead and buried was something he did not allow himself to think about. He gave everything he had to the dark side. His master took every possible opportunity to remind Vader he had nothing else.

Now he had Luke. Of course the Jedi would take him from Vader, too. They'd taken everything else. They had poisoned his wife against him, and now also his son.

 _My son_ , he thought in agony, and there were so many feelings and images tangled up in the words, Luke couldn't begin to pick them apart.

Vader's voice changed, his emotions strong enough to affect the vocoder. "Obi-wan would be so pleased." _What else could it be but betrayal, what else could it be-how will I protect him now, how will I defeat the emperor alone-_

Luke wrenched himself back from their link, forcing distance between them. "Yoda apologized to me, for being wrong," he said, stung. "He took one look at me and knew I'd found out. He knew we were working together against the emperor, that we had a connection." He planted his feet and started to push back against the pressure his father was exerting, feeling largely fed up.

"You," Vader said, his hold on Luke slipping in his surprise, "You told him? About what has passed between us." The connection, the bond between them felt like it had been lightly strummed, producing a discordant note.

Luke felt Vader's heart split open a little. He sounded crushed, as if there was something about their connection through the Force that he held above everything else, and even spilling out wildly in paranoia the thought had not crossed his mind that Luke would do such a simple thing as speak about it.

All the irritated outrage drained out of Luke at once. 

"No, father," he said softly. "You didn't kill me, and I told him I wouldn't kill you. I think he figured out the rest himself."

Yoda had stood beside his house as Luke approached like he was facing his own executioner. He'd reached out to Luke the moment he'd landed and Luke could tell Yoda felt the differences in him almost instantly. Yoda had recoiled with dread in his heart. Luke suspected, from his shock and delight at seeing Luke alive and untainted by the dark side, that Yoda may have encountered Luke's link to his father and made some pessimistic assumptions.

Vader was silent for a moment, and Luke could feel him struggling with himself, wrestling with his own pessimistic assumptions. Vader was terrified, but strangely, there were the tangled threads of love behind it. Luke had never imagined anyone could be so afraid of their own heart.

"Yoda thought I was right, in the end." Luke said earnestly. "It was the last thing he said."

At least, that's what he thought Yoda was saying. Luke was pretty sure 'there is another Skywalker' meant Yoda believed Anakin was still himself somewhere inside of Vader. Particularly given what they'd been talking about for most of the evening. Nothing else made sense, but it was always hard to tell with Yoda.

There was a flare of bitter satisfaction from his father at Luke's words.

"He was a fool," Vader said curtly. "But..." his voice turned considering, "perhaps less of a fool than other Jedi."

It should have been infuriating. But thinking of the feeling of betrayal in his father when speaking of his former masters, both then and earlier...

_-Obi-wan would be so pleased-_

A realization came to Luke all at once. Luke had felt loved all his life. Safely. Confidently. His aunt and uncle had never let him doubt their love for a moment. He'd been found-family to them, and found-family was to be cherished. Leia and Han and Chewie and Wedge loved him, too. He had a pack of friends who'd proven they would die for him and nothing that had ever lived in Luke could doubt that love, or fail to trust the people who gave it.

His father was different. He never felt safe, and doubted as a matter of course. His father, the Force seemed to whisper, didn't have enough trust left in him to count on his own left nostril.

Luke could move again, and he used that freedom to step forward and put his hand on his father's arm.

"Search your feelings," he said, gentle. "Yoda had as much luck getting me to see you as an enemy as my uncle did convincing me to be a moisture farmer." 

Vader stiffened in outrage under his hand. "A moisture farmer," he sneered.

It was, perhaps, a cheap trick, as there was no way his father wouldn’t be outraged on his behalf at that little piece of information, and having his father's temper directed outward was a good sight better than having it pointed at Luke. 

"Uncle Owen meant well," Luke smiled faintly. "But he never did really know what to do with me."

"He was not your Uncle," Vader snapped. "He was a-"

"He thought you were dead," Luke interrupted, his voice cold. He did not want to know what his father had been about to say. "He was sorry about it. Aunt Beru cried sometimes when I asked about you." He curled his fingers, barely stopping himself from making a fist. "They did everything they could think of to keep me safe, even when that meant fighting Obi-wan to keep him away from me. And the Empire killed them, like they were nothing."

Vader froze, and gave every indication he'd been struck speechless. 

Luke felt his father's temper dash itself to pieces all at once. The only thing left was his fear, and something very much like anguish.

"Not everyone is against you, father." Luke looked away from him, at the nauseating sky. In his mind, he drew back. "I was their lost-family, found again." 

His father was staring at him. Luke stood silently and let him. 

Aunt Beru had taught him all the words, and had held him as tightly as found-family should be held. He was, to his own surprise, disappointed in his father. Without realizing it he'd actually set up some kind of expectation of decency from a Dark Lord of the Sith, slaughterer of thousands. The person responsible for destroying the Jedi Order. And Luke was disappointed in him. It was ludicrous laid out like that, but Luke couldn't deny his own feelings.

"Yoda didn't understand why I'd never kill you," Luke said, after a long moment of silence. "But I thought you would."

Vader felt rather like grief and self-disgust had been pressed together to form a vaguely Vader-sized object. Luke wondered how clearly his father could sense him, if the connection was as coherent both ways. He wondered if Vader picked up on what Luke felt, and why.

His father's feelings were spattering everywhere, not one huge wave anymore but flashes like static. The anger was gone; Those snarled threads of love had wound tight, holding him fast.

Luke felt a split-second of relief with the thought that his father had calmed down, but was distracted by that same strange warning from the Force. It was louder now. It didn't make sense.

"My son," Vader said, his voice strangely thin, then stopped, as if whatever he had been about to say wasn't sufficient.

From the feel of him in the Force, Luke expected an apology. He didn't get one. At least not in the way he expected.

There were nine words for 'torn-away-family' on Tatooine. Vader said the one that meant the most. The most loved, the most cherished, the most grateful to have been found again. 'The heart given back to me'.

It meant more than just what Luke meant to him. It was an acknowledgment of what his Aunt and Uncle had done for him, as well.

Luke hissed in a breath, tears suddenly in his eyes and on his cheeks as if someone had dashed a glass of water into his face. His heart reached up and knocked his brain out of his head, and he took a step toward his father, fully intending to throw himself into his arms like Luke was 10 years old again.

The Force practically screamed in his ear, freezing him in place. The warning from the Force should have quieted, but instead the volume nearly deafened him.

Just slightly, Vader faltered.

Not just calming down, Luke realized with a flash of horror. Wearing out.

Luke lunged for Vader right as he dropped to his knees.

"Father-" Luke said, fumbling and grasping at his arms, his shoulders. Vader slumped alarmingly, leaning against him. "I've got you, all right? I've got you," Luke said, smothering panic.

This wasn't a physical space, it was a metaphorical one, and the fact that Vader was crumpling hinted at dire things going on wherever his body was residing.

Luke took a deep breath and consciously relaxed his shoulders, reaching out. His father was literally in his arms, but felt very far away. Luke had a vague memory that Vader had reached out to bolster him once, when he had been fading. The memory wasn't clear, but Luke did his best to replicate the results.

Vader jolted in his arms.

"Luke," he gasped. Luke could feel his father's presence strengthen a little. Encouraged, he pushed harder, and was surprised when his father pushed back, just slightly.

"I am...all right, my son," Vader said laboriously. Was his respirator struggling? "I merely need rest. The dark side...is not kind to weakness."

"Is the dark side kind to anything?" Luke asked, dry. 

Vader made a small sound that Luke would swear to his dying day was amusement.

"I'm going to find you, when I wake up," Luke said firmly, stubbornly. "The emperor isn't going to do this again. I'm going to help you."

"No-"

"You can tell him you caught me, that you're turning me or whatever you need to, that was the plan-"

"The plan may have to change," Vader said.

Luke finally picked up that something had happened that his father wasn't telling him.

"...Father," Luke said slowly, pointedly.

"The emperor tried to push his way into my mind," Vader admitted.

Luke's heart sank. "He knows?"

"I...believe I succeeded in keeping him from seeing anything of value," Vader said. His respirator was definitely working hard, and what that meant for what his body was going through in reality made Luke distinctly uneasy. "However," Vader hesitated, "It was difficult, at the end, to know what I was and was not doing. I can't be sure."

Luke's heart clenched. He had time to wonder what could have driven his father so nearly out of his own head, before something gave way, and he saw the answer to his question. It was just a flash. 

The emperor snarled and sneered and tore great bloody gashes across his father's soul, slashing and hacking away to get at what he KNEW his apprentice was hiding from him, young Skywalker had set roots in him somewhere and the emperor would have them out, would rip them from dark earth, would take the boy and slay him before Vader's eyes for his insolence, to teach him _where he belonged, on his knees_ -

Luke choked in a ragged breath, and suddenly his father was holding him up just as much as Luke was holding his father up. He shuddered, feeling sick.

"The emperor's power is...formidable," Vader said, in the way someone might say that the Death Star was a very large blaster. "If he should discover your presence at my side now, he would not be merciful to either of us. He would make you a lesson." The last word was spoken with dark contempt.

There was an expectation there, that Luke would of course leave him. He wanted to keep Luke safe, but there was no doubt in his mind that given the chance, Luke would go.

Everything inside Luke went still and sure. "I'll not leave you to face the emperor alone," he said simply, with his whole heart.

Softly, the Force chimed a perfect, beautiful chord around them both. _Truth._

Vader was silent for a moment. "Very well," he replied, his voice as soft as his suit could make it. "24 hours. Do not be early. Piett is trustworthy enough but I do not want to test him on something as important as your safety."

His father was wrong, Luke thought with a shiver. He didn't know why, but the sense that a mistake was being made was sharp and disturbing. Luke needed to get to him immediately, he needed to be there right now- 

Vader sagged, the light of his presence actually flickering. Luke couldn't have found calm in that moment in a million years, but he threw every ounce of strength he had at his father anyway. What poured forth wasn't the light, or the dark. It was some wild, powerful thing, still faintly ringing with that pure moment of emotional truth that had colored Luke's words.

Vader startled under his hands, jolting as if he'd just turned and realized he had a blaster aimed at the back of his head. Without warning, he vanished, all at once, into the reflected starlight under Luke's feet. The sudden and total absence of him was shocking.

The Force started howling like a mad thing.

The strength of the outcry broke the dream like a dry twig. Luke spilled out into the world in horror. Without thought, he tried to scramble to his feet and nearly knocked himself out on the ceiling of Yoda's hut. Clutching his head, Luke stumbled out the door into the swamp. He slipped and went down briefly on one knee, panting and rattled.

He couldn't feel his father anywhere. He reached and there was nothing. Luke didn't think...he didn't think his father was dead. The Force was still layering panic all around him, and Luke imagined that if his father was dead and he was too late, that it would stop.

Luke grabbed for the Force with both hands and ran for his X-Wing like a krayt dragon was half a meter behind him and gaining fast. Dagobah was a hazard in every step; Roots and slime and deep holes covered with shallow-looking pools of water. Luke avoided every pitfall as if he were running across a flat hangar deck 12 billion kilometers from the nearest swamp.

He started yelling for Artoo as soon as his ship was in sight. Artoo, sitting behind the pilot's seat, made a series of rapid, alarmed bleeps. 

"It doesn't matter, Artoo, we need to get out of here," Luke gasped. He slid to a halt in the mud beside his X-wing and grabbed the ladder, scrambling up the rungs without pausing for breath. He was so intent on his own frightened thoughts that he was almost up to the cockpit before he realized someone was calling him. In standard, not in Droid. Artoo didn't call him Luke; Luke was pretty sure the translation for what Artoo called him was 'the crazy one'. Or maybe 'the fun one'; Luke's grasp of Droid wasn't perfect and Artoo was a bit weird. 

Luke turned his head.

"Obi-wan?" he said, incredulous.


	3. Chapter 3

Every now and then, when the Force aligned itself precisely and the universe stood at his back instead of in his way, Vader could feel his son dreaming. 

It had happened before he'd even known he had a son. The moments had been an unsettling, bittersweet distraction, something to be resented and pushed aside. Luke's childhood had been enough like his own that those fleeting glimpses of endless stretching dunes and simple hopes seemed like sentimentality. He condemned himself for dwelling on a past that did not serve any useful purpose for him, and thought no more about them.

It was much later, after he'd learned the name of the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, after he'd known his son lived, did the Force part the distance between them and show Vader the truth he had been too blind to see.

It was only rarely that Luke recognized he was there. Usually Vader touched lightly on the mind of his sleeping son and felt a brief moment of the peace Luke felt, before withdrawing. At times, he slept himself and only realized later he had folded some aspect of his son's wandering thoughts into his dreams. And very, very rarely, he looked toward his son with clear eyes and found Luke looking right back at him.

"I'll not leave you to face the emperor alone." Luke spoke those words and the Force chimed a chord so beautiful Vader was speechless for a moment. It was as fine and resolute as an oath could be and the Force grasped at it with the joy of a promise well-received.

Whatever the outcome, Luke would be at his side when he faced the emperor. Literally, not metaphorically. It had not been a certainty before; Now he could feel the will of the Force behind it. His son's promise would be kept, that was clear. Vader just had to make sure Luke survived the encounter.

"Very Well. 24 hours." Vader had confidence in his new admiral; Piett was a practical man, and rather quaintly loyal. Nevertheless, in regard to his son he was not prepared to leave anything to chance. "Piett is trustworthy enough, but I do not want to test him on something as important as your safety." 

Vader had chosen his new crew more carefully than his last. His reputation for mercilessness had worked in his favor in that area; The deaths of the crewmembers he'd identified as obvious Palpatine devotees had so far been seen as unrelated to their loyalties, given his well-known intolerance for failure. 

It was somewhat ironic; After all his careful planning, it hadn't been his actions that had betrayed him to his master, but his feelings.

If Vader was going to make sure Luke survived, he first had to make sure he would live long enough to protect his son. He had few illusions he would be of much use afterwards. He would have to be more wary around his master now that his suspicions around Vader's attachment to his son had been roused. Vader's injuries had been significant; Palpatine had always believed the punishment should be equal to his disappointment. Vader could ill afford the kind of physical weakness he was currently suffering from when the time came to face his master. His body was manifesting a sudden, surprising drag on his resources that he would not like to be forced to wrestle with while actively trying to kill a Sith Lord.

Luke sensed his abrupt, inexplicable loss of energy and reacted recklessly, pouring out his own strength to bolster Vader's. Luke was not particularly skilled at the process, but made up with raw power what he lacked in finesse. 

His son’s feelings in that moment were plain to see. Luke's motivation was entirely sentimental, and completely foolish. Worthless attitudes Vader should scorn, but couldn't; Not where his son was concerned.

The son of Skywalker was as strong in the Force as Vader himself. However, it was not himself Luke reminded him of. The shape of his mind was very distinct, and painfully familiar. He had a deep vein of mercy and forgiveness running right through his foundations, and that same burning core of idealism Vader had come to know so well in his youth. Luke was, in many ways, hauntingly like his mother. Vader wondered suddenly, what a force-sensitive Padme Amidala could have wrought in the Republic, how it would have changed things.

What could Luke work upon the galaxy now, reflecting Vader's power and Amidala's heart?

Luke grasped at him with that heart, as though he was something valued, something to be protected. He shoved a fountain of power down Vader's throat and it was like the Force had been dozing and awoke in terror all at once.

Vader jerked his head back, and only succeeded in mashing the back of his head into the recuperation cot. He opened his eyes wide. Luke was gone, the dream snatched away. He wished almost, to call it back. He did not understand why....

He should not be on a recovery cot. He was always transferred from the tank directly into the suit, to keep his oxygen levels consistent.

Vader could not push himself up, as he was stripped down to the deeply pathetic vulnerability of his unaltered physical form. The Force, however, was more powerful than any physical limitations he had. Vader reached out, to the droids who should be watching over his recuperation. He could feel from the ache in his bones that he'd been brought out of the tank too early. He felt his body starving for oxygen. There should be alarms.

The droids had been destroyed. A man stood in their place, a man whose mind was clouded but somehow familiar to Vader in the Force. Vader could not see with his own eyes as well as he could in the suit; It was easy enough, however, to read the malice in the intruder's heart.

_Assassin._

Three decks away, Admiral Piett shot out of bed, clutching his chest. 

One deck away, a member of the 501st dropped his weapon and hit the lockdown alarm.

Twenty-five feet away, the two stormtroopers guarding the entrance to his private wing snapped their heads up as if they'd heard a blaster shot and took off running toward Lord Vader's private chamber.

None of them had any idea why. They were not Jedi, or Sith, they had no particular Force powers. However, neither were any of them completely Force blind. This was not entirely an accident.

Darth Vader was a dark star at the heart of his ship. His moods affected the tides, and the pull of gravity, and the lifespan of every being on board. They orbited him in a way more concrete than metaphorical, in the way the Force, once understood, was much more definite and terrifying than mere gravity. He was a raging torrent of power that by its very nature bent destiny itself, and the people on his ship were more closely affected by him than any other beings in the universe.

Darth Vader ignited into rage he rarely indulged in, and every crewmember on the _Executor_ who wasn't completely Force blind jumped like an electrical panel had just shorted out under their seats.

Vader had expected there would be times when he would not have time to explain himself. He had the right people at the right positions so he was reasonably certain if any of those situations occurred, he wouldn't have to explain himself.

He reached out to crush the throat of the fool who dared to try to succeed at something 10,000 beings better than he had failed at. Vader's grip in the Force felt thick and sluggish as his body rebelled against the lack of oxygen. He caught hold of the assassin but couldn't get him off his feet, so slammed him back against the wall and tried awkwardly to grind him into the deck. The assassin's concentration splintered, and to Vader's surprise he attempted to push back at Vader in the Force. His presence bloomed from behind formidable mental shielding, and with a surge of fury, Vader recognized his attacker. The Inquisitor was screaming a great deal, an irritating indication that Vader wasn't getting a tight enough grip on his neck. 

Perhaps not such a fool after all, he thought with dim alarm. Vader probably would have been clawing at his chest if he still had hands. He heard himself gasping for breath. Clever to wait until he was at his weakest to strike...

He was aware with increasing difficulty that his stormtroopers had crashed into the room, that one of them had taken up beating the assassin with the butt of his rifle in a pleasing one-two beat. Vader's concentration was shredding; He was no longer certain if the Inquisitor was alive. The other stormtrooper was attempting to do something with the controls for the tank with a rising sense of helpless panic. He couldn't be certain what the trooper was trying to do...he was very tired. 

For no reason at all, he thought of his son's face.

Then, out of nowhere...

"Found you," Luke said fiercely. It felt like his son had grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out of a crowd. He was there, and then he was gone, leaving behind a single breath of badly needed energy. Vader was branded with the certainty that he knew precisely where his son was. He could have flown to Dagobah blind. 

Vader looked up at the panicked stormtrooper with clear eyes. He'd retracted the built-in ventilator out of the bacta tank and promptly discovered that the tubing wasn't long enough to reach Vader.

Vader clenched his fist and snapped the base of the recovery cot, dragging it across the floor toward the tank. 

Vader hadn't eaten real food in years, but the first breath of pressurized oxygen tasted so sweet, it was like sugar on his tongue.

  
  
\-----------------------------------------------

Obi-wan stood looking up at Luke, glowing softly. The sight was possibly one of the few things in the universe that could have made him pause in his headlong rush.

Luke had his mouth open, ready to say something brilliantly intelligent along the lines of 'so, patricide, right?' or possibly even 'Vader knew I was his son and you really thought he wouldn't mention it?', but he was distracted when something in the Force slammed into his chest, skewering him like a spear.

Luke's head snapped up, and he lost his grip on the ladder. He could see the path the spear had taken through the stars, followed it back and back like it was trailing a rope, tying Luke to its beginning.

His father was standing there, rope in hand. _Malastare_. Luke felt a brief flash of his thoughts, so clearly it was as if they were standing beside each other. 

_Found you._

Luke hit the ground flat on his back, feeling oddly like he'd just been knocked out of the Force by a giant sign reading 'get a move on'.

"Ugh," he groaned, rolling onto his side and rubbing his back. "Obi-wan, this isn't a good time."

"Luke." Obi-wan looked pretty worried for a ghost. "You cannot trust Vader to go against the wishes of his master. Don't let good intentions deliver you into the emperor's hands."

Luke hauled himself to his feet. "Good intentions?" He repeated incredulously. "I-" he hesitated, glancing up. It felt like the Force was counting down to something, and that when it was finished he wouldn't like what happened. 

"I don't have time for this," he said, half to himself. He gave Obi-wan a sharp look. "I can save him, if I can get there in time." Luke hesitated, admitting to himself that he wasn't only talking about whatever danger his father was currently in. "I can save him," he repeated, and by the look on Obi-wan's face, he knew exactly what Luke meant.

He didn't look encouraged. He just looked sad.

Luke put his hand on the ladder and stopped, suddenly not willing to end the conversation that way. Luke curled his hands tightly on the rungs. "You should have told me, Ben," he said quietly.

"We were trying to protect you. It's the same reason you were hidden. The emperor knew any child of Vader would be a threat." Obi-wan spread his hands pleadingly. "He would have destroyed you, and Vader didn't have enough humanity left to care enough to stop him."

"You're wrong," Luke said. "Even Yoda agreed with me."

That set Ben back on his heels a bit, Luke thought with some satisfaction.

"He said there was another Skywalker," Luke said briskly, climbing the ladder. "He meant my father." He paused at the top, looking down at Ben, standing alone.

He had a strange look on his face Luke couldn't identify. "It's...possible," Ben didn't sound optimistic. He opened his mouth, as if he had something else to say, and then shut it. He shook his head, like he'd changed his mind about something.

Luke put his helmet on and climbed inside. "If you don't trust me, then trust Yoda. I can save him." He gave Ben half a salute and hit the control to shut the cockpit.

Ben didn't look comforted, but Luke couldn't spare any more time. "Let's go, Artoo."

Luke was going to be at Malastare in a lot less than 24 hours. His father wouldn’t be awake but Luke wasn't particularly worried about getting onto the _Executor_ , with or without his father's help. Not as long as Piett was still his admiral.

Luke had been a 'guest' on Vader's ship for almost 3 weeks. The first week had been spent in a bacta tank. Most of the second week was hazy. He remembered strange dreams, and the sense of his father hovering over him. He had a vague idea Vader might have had to restrain him at some point. Luke had an unusual memory fragment that couldn't have come from anywhere else; He somehow knew exactly what it felt like to lash out with the Force and feel someone push back, keeping him contained.

He also remembered that early in the second week he'd simply wandered off. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He'd walked past the stormtroopers guarding the doors, past officers and droids and ended up halfway across the ship. His father had explained it later; Apparently it was possible to call so strongly on the Force it would never leave again. You simply joined it, dropping dead more-or-less on the spot. Coming so close to that edge had left him absent-minded and prone to literally following along anywhere the Force was pointing. 

Luke had followed it right across the starboard side of the _Executor_ , and only stopped once he was standing in front of the current admiral of Vader's fleet. 

Luke wasn't wearing an 'I am a rebel come arrest me' sign, but he obviously wasn't a member of the crew. He might have been in trouble if Vader hadn't already noticed he was missing and immediately assumed he was trying to escape. Piett had just received an enraged communication from his father to send troopers to the hangar bays and start scouring the ship for him.

Luke had a well-known face and had been hunted by the Empire for years, but it was surprising how often he avoided being recognized just by acting like he didn't have any reason to hide from anyone. Vader hadn't informed Piett exactly who had broken free and was attempting to escape, so Piett could be excused for not instantly jumping to the conclusion that he was Luke Skywalker. It took him at least a full 30 seconds to figure it out. It took him considerably less than that to realize Luke wasn't quite in his right mind.

Once he understood who he was looking at, Admiral Piett had marched him straight back to Vader without a single word to anyone else. It was some of the quickest thinking Luke had ever seen in his life. 

Vader had been searching for Luke for years, and Admiral Piett had been there for almost every second of it. Including the parts Vader had taken pains to keep hidden from the Emperor. Vader had not mentioned Luke's name when demanding he search for a prisoner that up until that moment, Piett hadn't even known was on the ship. And Luke was physically unharmed, unaggressive, and apparently out of his head on what Piett assumed were some kind of interrogation drugs. 

Piett's feelings had come through clearly to Luke; He wanted to get this particular Skywalker-shaped secret back to Lord Vader before whatever Vader was trying to keep from happening happened, and the emperor had them all killed for treason. The fact that he immediately suspected treason was an interesting fact Luke would think about once he was back in his right mind. He would think harder about Piett's immediate reaction to that assumption.

Piett had taken his own hat off his head, put it on Luke, and yanked the small brim as far down as it was possible to hide his eyes. Luke had felt bemusedly at the hat, and Piett had actually swatted at his hand, like Luke was a misbehaving child. He'd gotten a grip on Luke's shoulder in a way that probably looked reasonably friendly to anyone passing who might be curious. Then he'd ground out between his teeth that if Luke wanted to survive the day, he'd go exactly where Piett was telling him to go.

"Sure," Luke had said. Then, damningly, "You're very loyal to my father, aren't you?"

Piett hadn't responded, but as they'd walked Luke had felt him doing more of that fast thinking. His mood sank as they walked. By the time he gave Luke a gentle shove through the doors to Vader's office, Luke suspected he was mentally preparing himself to be strangled on sight.

His father had been a churning mass of betrayal and paranoia, already assuming the worst. He'd seized upon Luke's Force presence like he was clenching his fist around it. Everything about Vader in that moment had screamed a terrible, wild-eyed possessiveness. His feelings were practically painting themselves in the air, they were so obvious. _I have you now and you will not slip through my fingers again..._

Vader wrapped his presence around Luke, expecting something, bracing himself for something. Luke didn't understand what it was, but his father didn't find what he was looking for. He found something else. Maybe it was the confusing **,** swirling serenity that had already started to fade out.

Whatever it was, the turmoil in his father had stilled all at once. All that was left was startled, lightheaded relief. Something protective rose up alongside it, almost as fierce as the sense of betrayal had been. Vader had reached out and gently took him by the shoulders. Luke had been wobbling a little, and appreciated it.

"I had to find someone, father," Luke had muttered distractedly. _Who had he-?_

That word, _father_ , had echoed strangely in his father's mind.

Vader turned his head toward Piett like he was sighting down the barrel of a blaster rifle. As though that word coming out of Luke's mouth had sentenced him to death.

"Don't kill him," Luke had said immediately. Then, after a brief hesitation, he'd reached up and gripped his father's arm. "Please."

Piett had been white as a sheet.

Vader had considered for a long, long moment. Then he'd straightened away from Luke and pivoted in place to look at Piett.

"Admiral," he'd said, his voice cold. "If you would be seated, I believe a discussion is in order." 

He'd turned to Luke, and his tone had warmed considerably. "Luke, you must concentrate, and ground yourself." Every ounce of that furious desperation Luke had sensed when first entering the room was gone. The possessiveness was still there, but it had lost all its edges. "You cannot allow yourself to be swept away by every eddy in the Force." 

Vader had urged him toward the door from his office to his quarters. "Now, the Admiral and I have much to discuss." 

Luke had dug his heels in a bit. "Wait, " he'd said, ducking around his father's arm. "My disguise." 

Admiral Piett had taken the hat back from him with a kind of startled realization on his face, though Luke couldn't tell what it was about. Luke turned from Piett and gave his father a sober, deeply unhappy expression he could tell Vader did not like at all. 

Luke didn't say anything. He didn't need to. His feelings were clear.

His father had radiated annoyance. "How I discipline my officers is not your concern, my son." He'd seen the darkening of Luke's expression and relented slightly, in a way that for some reason nearly shocked Piett off his feet. "However, I shall take your...request...into consideration." 

Once Luke's thoughts had settled, and he started feeling like himself again, he realized that during that brief interaction he had somehow gained himself a staunch Imperial ally. He hadn't figured out why Piett was so determined to be friendly, but it had come in handy during the three day conversational battle he'd had with his father over when (if) Luke would be leaving to re-join the Alliance and start the wheels of their plan moving. Piett had come down on his side of things; It had helped immeasurably to have someone who could talk about the idea from a strategic perspective instead of an emotional one.

It wasn't the only time something he'd done while he was basically Force-addled had turned out to be incredibly helpful. At the moment the Force was telling Luke he didn't have 24 hours to wait for his father to come out of the bacta tank to join him. If he hadn't gone for a stroll through the Executor and made a friend of Piett he certainly would have found it a lot harder to get on board the _Executor_ on his own.

"Artoo, I need to send a couple of communication packets," Luke said. “Leia needs to know things are in motion, and then there’s one more that needs to go out before we get to Malastare.” Artoo made some doubtful comments. "Yes, I know it's Imperial. It's a private code, don't worry." 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Vader woke in the bacta tank and could tell it had been some time since the attack. The bone-deep aches associated with exposure to Force lightning had faded. However, there was a warning crawling up his spine; It had jolted him awake. He had only enough time to think in irritation, _what now?_

As if in answer, a red glow bloomed against the distorted glass walls of the tank, deadly and familiar. There was someone out there who had just ignited a lightsaber. Vader reached out with a snarl, recognizing the presence. Whoever had been foolish enough to place a force-sensitive prisoner in a normal cell was going to pay for their negligence.

Then, much more terrifyingly, a green glow joined the first. 

The curve of the tank and the thickness of the material distorted the view of the room, but Vader did not need to see to know his son had disobeyed him. Luke was out there. Facing one of the Inquisitorious, trained by Vader himself.

It was an accident of angles that he saw clearly the moment their lightsabers crossed.


	4. Chapter 4

The Jedi were weak. 

Vader knew this to be true. He was also not a fool; Yoda had been one of the most powerful force users the Jedi Order had ever produced. If he had turned to the dark side he would undoubtedly have been magnificent. He had not; Yoda had taught his son to be a Jedi, and as much as that rankled, Vader's only hope at that moment was that Yoda possessed the strength Sidious had always claimed he lacked.

It was one of the more unlikely things the universe had ever done to mock him. Vader trained the Inquisitorius personally. Now, his student crossed lightsabers with Yoda's student, and he found himself fervently hoping Yoda had been a better master than he was. 

It was not a fool's hope; Vader took care not to teach his inquisitors everything he knew, and Luke hadn't done too badly on Bespin against him. Vader hadn't wanted to kill his son, but he hadn't wanted to lose, either. Luke lasted longer than Jedi with ten times his experience. He had a strange way of fighting that was difficult to predict, and it worked to his advantage. If Vader hadn't realized that no one had bothered to teach his son object control in battle situations the duel probably would have gone on for several minutes longer. 

His heart dropped a little. Luke had gone back to train with Yoda after Bespin. He'd returned to complete his training, surely Yoda had...

Yoda had gotten strange in the final days of the Clone Wars. Vader had not cast his mind back to the days of Anakin Skywalker's battles with the Separatists in some time, but he recalled that distinctly. Yoda had been wise enough, perhaps, to know the Jedi would fail, but not strong enough to stop it. He'd often talked about the futility of war, near the end. It had been twenty years, and Vader hoped those years had made Yoda bitter enough to throw that kind of thinking to the side and make a warrior out of Luke.

_You taught him object control in battle, you taught him that or else you were utterly addled in your old age..._

Lightsabers flashed, and Vader reached out into the Force with a shiver of fear.

Luke and the inquisitor's energies were tangled, as duelists usually were. Luke was stronger; Much stronger. Vader was in a position where his only clear view of them was through the Force, and looking at his son fighting without the distraction of his eyes brought Vader a shocking and terrifying truth. If he'd realized it on Bespin he would have stopped the fight with his son immediately.

Luke knew almost nothing formal about lightsaber combat. The inquisitor should have killed him in a heartbeat. Vader should have beaten him in a heartbeat. The thing that saved him was that strange way of fighting, random and yet planned.

Vader's blood turned to ice. 

Luke fought in the same way Anakin had flown podracers as a child on Tatooine. The way untrained, powerful younglings sometimes expressed their talents, before the Jedi taught them deliberate control. Luke fought completely instinctively. He was wide open and simply going wherever the Force felt right. That was his entire strategy, and the only thing keeping him from death. Luke didn't even realize he was doing it. He thought he was reacting to what was in front of him as anyone would. It was bloodcurdling.

His son was insane. And Yoda had _sent Luke out like that._

_I will dig Yoda up, clone him, and slaughter him twice a night until the end of time-_

Vader ripped a panel off the wall with the Force and slammed it into the inquisitor's face. His son's mastery of object control was now so far down the list of Vader's concerns the light of it wouldn't reach him for a thousand years. This fight needed to end immediately. 

Vader felt the satisfying sense of the inquisitor's shock and pain. He was much closer than Vader realized and the inquisitor's lightsaber glanced over the surface of the bacta tank as he fell, melting the transparisteel in a long stripe, the bacta directly beneath it boiling instantly. 

Vader recoiled against the back wall of the tank, having a brief thought of how irritating it would be if after everything he'd been through, he was killed by essentially becoming soup. The weakened surface of the tank held, warped by the close pass but not fatally compromised.

Luke sent him a flare of alarm that fractured his concentration in a way he definitely couldn't afford.

 _Focus!_ Vader sent to him, whip sharp.

 _You're not helping_ , Luke shot back, grasping at the Force to shove the inquisitor across the floor, away from Vader's tank.

The inquisitor had been trained regrettably well, and spotted Luke's weakness instantly. Vader felt him try to reach him through the Force, to tear at Vader and crush him. Vader lashed back in outrage, shoving his sense of comfort aside. An intentionally-soothing bacta tank was not the place for anything that required real fury-

He felt his son move to place himself between them, both physically and in the Force. Vader was weaving in on the inquisitor, coiling around him and squeezing and enjoying it - _this man would pay_ \- but when Luke stepped up it was like he had slammed a blast door in place between them with a bone-jarring, thunderously protective clang. The Inquisitor could not reach Vader, but Vader couldn't reach him either. 

_Luke, no!_

Vader only had time for a second of alarm- he could handle this inquisitor, if Luke would only-

There was a sudden, distracting bloom of light in the Force. It swelled. It had _weight_. It was as if the gravity on his ship shifted, listing heavily to one side. He could almost hear the _Executor_ groaning under the stress. Luke struck back at the inquisitor as though he was dropping a moon on the man's head. As though he'd swatted the emperor's palace flat with one hand, a thousand stories crushed in an instant. 

The inquisitor died so quickly it was breathtaking. The emperor, had he seen it, would have swooned. The inquisitor's body didn't even realize it was dead yet; He was still breathing even though his presence in the Force was disintegrating. Then Luke's lightsaber came down, and there was nothing left of him. 

There was not a shred of anger behind it. Only the fierce protectiveness Luke felt towards him. _Obi-wan_ would have swooned.

Luke, it seemed, had been trained well after all.

The green glow shining against the curve of the tank blinked out.

Luke approached him, all concern and no pride. As if he was totally ignorant of how impressive his power was, and what he had just done with it.

Though...if Luke's primary experience with other Force users was himself and Yoda, perhaps the boy was ignorant of how extraordinary he was. Perhaps he thought all Force users were that strong.

Luke placed his hand on the tank, close enough that Vader could see him through the distortion of the tank's walls. It was the first time he'd looked at his son with his own eyes, Vader realized with a shock. Luke’s resemblance to him was obvious. To who he had been, long ago. Except, perhaps, something around his eyes, that better resembled someone else...

Then Luke reached out to him, and the overwhelming warmth behind his son's concern drove all the thoughts from Vader's head.

_Father?_

Vader fumbled with his own emotions, aching and raw. He couldn't remember the last time, before Luke, that he'd felt...No. No, he remembered. Luke might look like him, but this part of him was entirely his mother.

He would never let his son go. _Never_. He would kill Palpatine with his bare hands if he had to.

 _I am here,_ Anakin replied. Unharmed.

Something in his son changed. His presence in the Force seemed to rear up for a moment. Something huge and bright flared, half seen, and quickly hidden. Triumph? No, not quite...

Vader squinted through the transparisteel. He could just see Luke's face. His expression matched the relief Vader thought he felt from him. Not quite relief. What was his son hiding?

 _Admiral Piett had the place repaired_ , Luke sent suspiciously swiftly. _I can step outside if you want to...get dressed._

Vader narrowed his eyes. _Acceptable_ , he replied. 

He sifted through what he could sense of his son's thoughts with wary curiosity. Luke realized what he was doing almost instantly, and shut himself up tight.

_I'll be outside._

Simmering in irritation, Vader signaled to begin the sequence that would remove him from the tank and place him in his suit. He supposed he had not realized just how open his son allowed himself to be around Vader until Luke shut himself off. The difference chafed.

Once he was capable of examining it, Vader saw the room was in some disarray. Two of the consoles were smashed, and there was a large hole in the wall from where Vader had torn the panel away. There were several long slashes burned into the floor near the body, which was unsurprising; Vader recalled that particular inquisitor had always been careless with his downstroke. 

His presence was interesting, however. He was supposed to be long-dead.

 _Well_ , Vader thought with pleasure, _he's certainly dead now._

The timing was beyond suspicious. Hopefully, the attack had merely been intended as a small reminder of what his master expected of him.

Vader stepped out into the hall some 20 minutes after his son, and found a swath of destruction. He had apparently awoken somewhat later in the fight between his son and the inquisitor than he'd assumed. Much later, he thought with a chill. 

Vader decided right then that he would begin training his son immediately, whether Luke liked learning lightsaber combat from a Sith Lord or not.

The hallway was in shambles. The walls were dented and peeled back, electrical components wrenched free and thrown everywhere. The door to his wing had been forced open, the metal still glowing faintly red from the slice of a lightsaber. He could see sparks at the far end of the hall, fountaining out of a wall panel that had a large chunk of ceiling embedded in it. 

Vader had a suspicion that even if Yoda hadn't taught him a single kata, Luke had learned object control in battle situations.

Luke and Admiral Piett were standing side by side in the middle of the maelstrom, a prudent distance from the dangling remains of the huge swath of ceiling that had been torn down. 

Both Piett and Luke turned to him with oddly identical expressions of surprise. They had obviously been in the middle of a discussion. An astromech droid, strangely out of place, was hovering at Luke's elbow.

Admiral Piett snapped to attention. He looked slightly worse for wear, with a long scrape down the right side of his face and a rumpled uniform. Vader supposed that to an objective observer, Piett would have looked rather pitiable. Vader was not prone to pity.

"Admiral," Vader began, drawing the word out. 

At his tone of voice Piett blinked rapidly, several times.

"Tell me, who ordered that inquisitor to be placed into a normal cell?" He spoke lightly, dangerously. It was unlike Piett to make foolish mistakes. Something more was at work here. If his son was not safe...

Luke, who had pulled back from Vader's presence in the Force and did not know him as well as Piett, only looked slightly concerned.

Piett swallowed hard. "The inquisitor was apparently working with several crew members, my lord. One of the guards on the detention level was identified and has been arrested for treason, as has a technician on one of the flight decks." Piett hesitated. "Shall I give the order for their interrogations?"

Vader's mood improved enormously, all at once. There would be _something_ salvageable from this day.

"That will not be necessary," Vader said, with pleased anticipation. "Leave them to me. Make certain they are...fortified for what awaits them. I will be displeased if the interrogation is cut short."

Luke, he was certain, did not like that. Vader would like him to remain alive to dislike it, so he would proceed regardless. If the emperor had simply arranged circumstances to allow this to happen, it was merely a message, and they were still quite safe. If he was acting directly they were in a great deal of trouble.

Vader would have liked to interrogate them immediately, before proceeding with anything. He did not have the time. They would have to serve him merely by confirming his suspicions about his master, later. 

Piett gave him a short nod. "As you wish, Lord Vader." He gave Luke a swift glance Vader didn't understand, and set off rapidly down the hall.

Vader turned toward Luke, and caught the odd sight of a blue astromech very obviously trying to shuffle itself behind his son to hide. He stared at it for a long, long moment. The droid produced a soft blatt of sound which was as close to nervous cursing as a droid could get.

Vader looked at Luke, meaning to demand some kind of explanation for the presence of this particular droid, of all droids. He stopped when he saw the exasperated expression Luke was aiming at Piett's retreating back. 

"Of course you wouldn't kill him," Luke muttered, half to himself, startling him. Vader wondered suddenly just what it was his son and Admiral Piett had been discussing.

Luke looked up at Vader. "He's the one who realized they put that guy in the wrong cell, you know," he said. "You shouldn't-"

"I believe I have made it clear that the way I choose to discipline my officers is not your concern," Vader said briskly, intending that to be the end of it.

Luke's expression of disappointment was hauntingly similar to his mother's. Anakin had never been able to stand it from her, either.

"However," he added, "So long as he doesn't forsake his loyalties, Admiral Piett has nothing to fear from me."

Luke gave him a dry look. "Yeah? Well, that's not what he thinks."

Vader was surprised. Not that Piett feared him - that was only natural - but it was surprising Piett had spoken about it to Luke.

"Oh, he didn't say anything about it," Luke said, picking up on Vader's emotions. "But it's obvious." 

Vader folded his arms. He would have sighed, if he'd been able to. "Very well," he said finally. "I will attempt to...make things clearer to him." He tilted his head. "I hope I will have more success than when I made it clear to you that you were to wait to join me here."

He pointed vaguely at Luke's chest, for emphasis. "You needlessly risked yourself."

Luke's eyebrows shot up. His presence in the Force rushed back all at once, brightly amused. "Did I?" He glanced around pointedly at the hole in the ceiling, the dented walls, the shower of sparks that had attracted several panicking droids. He looked utterly unrepentant.

"I said 24 hours, my son," Vader said with a bit of a snap. 

"You did." Luke grinned at him. "You're welcome,” he added, in an infuriatingly flippant way.

The tone was familiar. He would have said the same, once. Something about the thought disturbed him.

Artoo twittered at Luke in an irritated way that was chillingly familiar, letting his son know in no uncertain terms that Artoo thought he was a bit of an idiot. Luke gave him a dirty look.

"I had a feeling I needed to be here," Luke said, sobering. He squinted thoughtfully at the floor. "Like a dream..."

Anakin tensed.

"...that I was half-remembering," Luke continued, oblivious to his father's sudden skyrocketing anxiety. Luke shook his head. "I had to be here."

For a moment, the only sound between them was the hiss of his respirator. "I see. And was the danger to me the only thing you felt?"

Luke got a look on his face as if something was stuck in his teeth, and he was trying to poke it free with his tongue. "I don't..." he shook his head, eyes unfocused. "If I didn't get here something was going to happen I wouldn't like. Not just you, but..." Luke sighed. "I don't know."

The Force was a powerful ally. But sometimes, it did what it liked.

"Very well." He put his hand on Luke's shoulder. "Come with me. It may be prudent for you to remain close enough to assist me." Luke had his mother's stature, and needed to hurry to keep up with him. Anakin paused, and slowed a little, as he'd once made a habit of doing with her. 

He was a little startled by the expression on Luke's face. The boy was practically beaming at him. He'd started leaking that same strange brightening swell of emotion he'd attempted to hide earlier. Not relief; Excitement?

"What am I helping with, Father?" There wasn't the slightest sense of hesitation. Luke was alight with affection; Anakin wasn't sure why, but he liked it.

"My conversation with the emperor."

At Bespin his son impressed him immediately with his ability to control his fear, even while facing him across a lightsaber blade. He had the steady nerves of a pilot. It was something of a surprise, feeling Luke suddenly freeze in terror.

  
  


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There were some things Luke couldn't exactly remember about the day he'd held that Super Star Destroyer in orbit. However, he still remembered very clearly that he'd been willing to rip himself to pieces to save his friends, and the sheer terror that had gripped his father in response. Vader's heart overcame his rage and for a brief moment, far beneath the darkness, Luke had seen a flicker of Anakin Skywalker. 

He'd known, then, what he had to do. Luke couldn't fight him. He had to help him.

Luke could feel the change that choice had made in his father. Vader had been smothered in a thick layer of rage and hate, like an old speeder carelessly left out in the desert and buried by sand. But now the winds had picked up and had gotten the sand moving again, swirling it around, letting little glimpses of bright metal plating show through.

Anakin Skywalker was being revealed in pieces, flashes of him gleaming in the suns, and then covered again. It felt like Luke could see a little more of him every time.

Maybe it was because of the dream they'd shared. Maybe, Luke thought bashfully, because he had proven he cared by rushing to help and stop the force-wielding assassin. Either way, right then Luke could see more of his father than he'd ever been able to see. It was amazing; A part of him didn't want to even breathe too loudly in fear of spoiling the moment and somehow driving him back beneath the sands again. Another part of him wanted to punch the air in triumph.

"What am I helping you with, Father?" At that moment, Luke would have done almost anything for him.

"My conversation with the emperor," his father said, pieces of his old self glinting and catching the light. 

The bottom dropped out of Luke's thoughts. 

Luke watched those bright reflections of his father's better self ripple through the Force and understood something with horrified certainty. If the emperor saw his father now, he would kill him. 

As soon as the emperor got a look at his father he would know what was happening. Luke was sure anyone half-able to feel the force would. The Sith Lord would make him pay for re-discovering his heart; Luke could feel it with the flat finality of a speeder pilot suddenly facing a canyon wall instead of open sky. Luke flashed on the memory his father had accidentally shared with him of the emperor's 'discipline', at the fractured reflection of his master's rage.

_Young Skywalker had set roots in him somewhere, and he would have them out, he would rip them from dark earth, he would teach him where he belonged, on his knees..._

The emperor would know, and Anakin Skywalker would die. It would be brutal, it would be horrific, and it would be entirely Luke's fault.

The Force had just clamped its hand on Luke's shoulder and started leaning on him with the staggering weight of certainty, and Luke had to brace himself to hold up under the load.

"Why?" Luke demanded, trying not to let himself be crushed. "What good would it do to talk to the emperor now?"

Vader tilted his head at Luke. Luke had no idea what his father was feeling or thinking; Luke was too busy locking him out, consumed with the thought that the moment he told his father his fears, terrible things would happen. That it would be infinitely harder for his father to hide it from the emperor once he knew it was there; Or worse, that once he knew, he would never allow it to happen again, and Anakin Skywalker really would be dead.

Luke had been utterly wrong in thinking the assassin was the reason he'd needed to get to the Executor.

This was it. This was the reason. _This was a disaster_ -

"He will be expecting it," Vader said, as though surprised Luke would ask. "Not to do so would only arouse his suspicions. I have no doubt he is somehow behind my...reunion...with my old apprentice. He will be curious about my reaction." He hesitated, possibly because of what he'd felt from Luke before he'd managed to cut himself off. "There is little danger in this particular communication, my son. Even if this was a genuine attempt on my life, he will wish to see how I respond."

Luke fumbled for a moment with several new horrible pieces of information about his father's relationship with the emperor, and seized on a detail that suddenly felt important.

"Your..." Luke's blinked at him. "Your old apprentice. I killed your old apprentice." 

"Indeed. I thought him dead, years ago. It would appear that he was not quite as useless as he seemed to be." Vader spoke coldly, dismissively.

 _A master, and an apprentice._ With a sickening lurch, Luke knew exactly what he needed to do.

He clamped himself down as tightly as possible, drawing himself away until Vader almost felt like a stranger. Then he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and deliberately lied.

"I want to talk to the emperor myself," he said with chilly determination. "I'm curious to see how he responds to that." He wanted nothing of the kind, and even blocked off, Vader had to be able to sense the falsehood. Luke was counting on it.

He'd noticed that his father took a lie like a knife to the chest. The first part of Luke’s ‘Keep the Emperor From Killing my Father’ plan involved deliberately pissing off the Sith Lord he was trying to save. The plan only got worse from there. 

Artoo made a distinctly nervous warble.

It felt like the room got colder. Luke had pulled as far back from the Force as he could get, but he could still feel the pressure in the air from his father's reaction. 

"Absolutely not," Vader seethed.

"Afraid he'll try to convince me to turn?" Luke said, dry. "I'll not go so easily."

Vader pointed his finger at Luke's face. "Do not underestimate the emperor," he said, in a strange echo of Yoda's final warning.

"Your plan is to have no plan and hope he's curious," Luke said roughly. "I should be saying that to you." The Emperor would be curious all right, Luke thought with a pang. After his father was dead, he would be very curious about the reason for the change in him.

Vader's presence seeped out into the air around him, curling close and angry and possessive, but above all else, radiating the need to protect him. A flare of guilt twisted in Luke's chest.

Vader drew himself up sharply. The sense of him in the air strengthened. "You are hiding something from me."

Luke realized he'd let the bond between them slip open, just a little, and hurriedly tried to clamp down on it. It wasn’t easy; He was out of practice.

"No," he said, lying.

He heard the leather of his father's gloves creak as he curled his hands into fists. Luke could feel him fighting with paranoia, and anger, and something much worse. At least, something that made Luke feel worse. He was hurt.

Darth Vader, scourge and terror of the galaxy, was hurt that Luke was lying to him.

"So what do you need me to do?" Luke said, shoving down his own remorse for later. 

Strangely, his father looked down at Artoo. "Come with me," he said, gesturing Luke forward, without really looking at him. For an odd second it felt like he was speaking more to Artoo than to Luke. "There is a small control room here, where you will remain." The door hissed open, revealing a room the size of a large closet. Screens and panels covered the walls. There was a slot for mouse droids to move in and out. 

"If things should go...poorly, you will sense it," Vader said to him. "If that happens, instruct your astromech to cut the power to this section."

Luke gaped at him. "This is an Imperial ship, Artoo can't-"

"He can." Vader was looking directly at Artoo, as if daring the droid to contradict him.

With rising disbelief, Luke watched Artoo roll past him, right up to Darth Vader. Artoo whistled at him, low and questioning. 

Luke had to get better at speaking Droid. It sounded like Artoo was worried. About his _father_.

Vader stared down at Artoo for a moment, then nodded at the open doorway. "Go," he said, almost gently. And Artoo went. 

Artoo listened to Luke and about three other people in the universe. Once, on Hoth, one of the other pilots had tried to order Artoo off base onto a departing rebel transport that was running low on astromechs and Artoo had chased him around the hangar bay with his welding torch. Unless he was actively wearing a restraining bolt, Artoo pretty much did what he liked.

Luke looked at the doorway Artoo had disappeared through, then back at his father. "Do...you...know each other?" he said, mystified.

Vader looked at him silently for a moment. He turned, cape flaring, and walked after Artoo. "Come," he said.

Thoroughly confused, Luke followed him. Things didn't get clearer inside. His father lifted his hand and drew the force close. He clenched his fist and every screen in the room shattered.

Luke flinched, and Artoo squealed. "What are you doing?"

"It is important that you do not see what passes between the emperor and I, if you are to remain unnoticed," Vader said.

There was a lot Luke didn't understand about the Force; He simply hadn't had enough time to learn. His father had just added a new, and vaguely terrifying detail as though it was something everyone should know. Even just looking at the image of the emperor while he was there could bring Luke to his attention. Of course, Luke thought sarcastically, who wouldn't know that. Yoda had told him at the start that he would be afraid. Luke had _almost_ taken him seriously enough.

"What if I don't want to remain unnoticed?" Luke snapped back, lying like a madman. It was undoubtedly crazy to deliberately try to enrage Darth Vader. It was possibly crazier that he needed to work this hard at it.

"What you want is irrelevant," Vader said bluntly. He pointed at Luke rather aggressively. "You will remain in this room until I come to retrieve you. Do not use the Force for any reason while the emperor's attention is focused here."

His father was simmering with worry, not anger, which wouldn't help him at all.

Luke narrowed his eyes and got serious. "I'm not one of your officers to order around, you know. And in case you forgot, I was born free. You're not my master." He didn't say the last word in standard. It was an older word. A Tatooine word. 

It was a nasty thing to say to anyone who knew enough to understand what it meant; It was downright brutal to say it to a freed man.

His father twitched, and one of the overhead lights exploded in a shower of sparks.

There was a moment of utter silence. A chill descended, and something dark and deadly swirled through the room. 

"No," he said. Luke felt his father's presence start to coil around him. "I am your father." Vader took a single step forward. "And rest assured," he said ominously, "you will choose to obey me of your own free will."

Luke could breathe, but the darkness was suddenly so thick and oppressive that he almost didn't want to."What do you mean?"

"If you choose to leave this room or in any way act against me," Vader said with relish, "I will take a shuttle to Malastare and kill the first five people I see." 

Luke froze. His heart turned to ice. 

"You-" _you wouldn't_ , "you can't-"

"The first ten," Vader revised. He took another step toward Luke, and then he was snarling. "I will bring their bodies back to the ship and lay them in front of you. You will stay here, or you will look upon the frozen screams on their faces."

 _Truth._ The Force, terrible in its own way, rang as pleasantly with the honesty behind his father’s words as it did when Leia told him she cared about him.

Luke recoiled from him in horror. Artoo charged toward his father, whistling furiously. 

With a wave of his hand he cast Artoo back against the wall. Artoo bounced, squealing. Then Vader turned back to him, meaning to say something else, probably something monstrous-

This was what Luke had wanted to happen, this was what he'd been trying to get his father to do. The sand had to be at least three feet thick over Vader's head. No one could look at him and think anything but 'perfect sith lord'. The emperor wouldn't blink twice. But getting what he wanted and seeing what that meant, how _repellent_ -

His father saw the look on his face, and froze.

His shoulders dropped.

That shock of horror had helped Luke slam the door shut between whatever connection there was between them. It was a familiar feeling; It was how he'd lived his life after Bespin, when he'd known his father was there and wanted to keep him out. Consequently, Luke had no idea what his father was actually feeling, or what he was thinking. The Force between them was silent.

Vader curled one hand into a fist, tilting his head down as if staring unseeing at the deck. 

"Luke," he said, his voice thick. He took a step toward Luke. Without thinking, Luke tried to step back and realized he'd backed himself up against the wall.

Vader noticed, and stopped dead.

 _Just go_ , Luke thought, knowing he couldn't hear. _Go and be rage and fury for the emperor._

"We...will speak later of this, my son," Vader said. His voice might have been as soft as it was capable of being. It didn't sound like rage or fury.

Vader turned from him to leave, and Luke risked opening up a little. His father froze, just briefly, at the doorway.

Luke's heart dropped.

His father wasn't angry. He wasn't a perfect Sith Lord tower of fury. He just hated himself. 

"Father-" The door shut behind him in a way Luke didn't like at all, with a little 'thunk' he recognized. He slapped his hand against the door panel, but as he suspected, it was locked. 

Luke stared at it with a horrified sinking sensation.

_I've made a terrible mistake._


	5. Chapter 5

Artoo charged at Luke and almost knocked him right off his feet, whistling furiously.

Luke yelped, jumping back. "Artoo! What's gotten into you?"

Artoo was talking so fast Luke couldn't keep up, squealing and warbling and running over himself. It sounded like he was saying that something (someone?) was malfunctioning and needed repair, and Artoo seemed to suddenly think Luke was just about the worst mechanic in the galaxy. Which was uncalled for, and a bit hurtful. 

_Threepio could fly an x-wing better than you could repair a-_

"Hey!" Luke sputtered. 

Artoo literally turned his back on Luke and rested there in a silent rebuke. 'I'm not speaking to you' in droid. It was such a human thing to do Luke was momentarily flabbergasted.

"Artoo," Luke said in shock. Artoo said nothing, and Luke started to feel guilty, even though he had no idea how he'd offended him. "I-" Luke looked at the door helplessly, then back at his friend.

"Please, you can be upset with me later, but I need you to unlock this door for me right now."

Artoo said nothing. 

Luke briefly put his head in his hands. "I don't have time for this. I can't use the Force now or he'll know, but I have to get out there-"

Luke's stomach dropped and he choked himself off. His father had gone still and cold. Walls of ice and steel sprang up between them. Luke shivered. He'd never felt that, never felt anything like it, not in Vader's most furious moments. The raging storm that was his father's presence in the Force lashed itself down and built a fortress of ice around itself. The sudden cold shot through Luke's veins and he stumbled against the wall in shock.

 _The emperor is coming._ They were speaking to each other, or were about to.

"Artoo," Luke choked in a broken voice, "please-" 

Artoo turned his head and looked at Luke. He beeped once, softly, then rolled over to the control panel. He twittered as he hooked himself into the computer, a quiet 'you better not screw this up, crazy one'. 

Luke faced the door. He drew one leg back a little behind the other, setting himself like he was about to run headlong into a lightsaber battle. He was about to earn that nickname.

'I'll do my best' he almost said, but stopped, hearing Master Yoda's rebuke in his head.

"I won't." _I won't._ The door opened, and Luke charged into the hall. He didn't have to wonder where to go- his father burned like the frozen surface of Hoth in his mind. Luke slid to a stop in front of an unassuming-looking door. His father's threat was fresh in his memory. He told himself he would just have to convince him not to follow through with it.

Then, something much worse than his father's gruesome promise bloomed in Luke's mind. 

In all of his wild imaginings, even having felt the echo of the emperor's rage in his father's head, he had never come close to grasping what the emperor felt like in person.

The darkness was so complete it was almost hard to see him after that first flare of horror. Black like a hole in the universe, too dark for his eyes to make sense of it. It felt like something that only revealed itself once people already knew it was there. The sheen of engine oil spreading across the surface of deep, turbulent water. No one could see it until they were in it.

The emperor fouled the water. It was _offensive._

Luke wanted more than anything in his life to be able to take a moment to brace himself for what he was about to do. The emperor had a quality that made some fundamental part of Luke start screaming at him to look away, that there was nothing there to see and if he thought otherwise he would live to regret it. There was a great deal there to see, but that insistence never stopped. Luke hadn't wanted to go in even before he'd known what the emperor felt like. Now it seemed like he had to actively drag himself, fighting against his own feelings.

He didn't have the time to gather himself. It had to be a surprise. Everything counted on that.

Luke grabbed hold of the door with the Force, and ripped it out of the wall. He closed his eyes and deliberately called up the feeling he'd had the day he'd almost lost himself. A wild, powerful thing birthed from protection and love. He filled himself up and lashed out with it. 

The room inside was surprisingly stark. Gleaming black floors and dark grey walls and some kind of black pod in the center.

His father had been down on one knee, and jumped to his feet. Behind him, a massive holo of the emperor looked at Luke with some surprise. His face was as grotesque as he appeared in the picture of him someone in Rogue Squadron had put up in the mess hall for the pilots to throw things at.

His father's mental walls spiderwebbed with cracks, the pressure from within too much to hold back. Vader's temper had finally snapped. Luke felt his thoughts hiss out in pieces from behind his defenses like a damaged ship venting oxygen into space.

_Tear... with this utter...FOOL WHAT HAVE YOU DONE-_

"My my," the emperor said lightly. "Lord Vader, you have a guest."

That feeling, that 'don't look at him' feeling in the Force that had some part of him wanting to tear its way out the door, down the corridor and out into space, dropped all at once. Luke looked at the giant hologram with a chill of shock. It wasn’t just how the emperor felt in the Force; He had been doing that on purpose.

He was still so utterly dark it almost hurt to feel him near, but all of a sudden Luke could look at him. As if he'd never been reluctant to. 

For a moment, Luke felt like he had never been so intimidated by anyone in his life.

"Luke Skywalker, Master," Vader introduced, trembling with rage. He was trying to leash it but it wasn't working very well.

"Ah," the emperor said conversationally, as if he hadn't known. "How fortunate you have finally found him, after searching for so long."

Luke took his courage in both hands. "He didn't find me," he hesitated, "your majesty. I came to him."

The emperor gave him a mild expression. "Did you? How interesting." He altered the feed from whatever hologram emitter he was using, enough for Luke to see more than just his face. He gestured at Luke inclusively, like a kindly old grandfather. "Come forward, young Skywalker."

There was a hopeless, rising despair pouring forth from his father with every step Luke took towards his master, like a slashed artery gushing blood.

The feeling of the emperor thickened in the air around Luke. He was trying to seep in through Luke's shields like sand working its way through the seams of his clothes. Luke was expecting that, at least, and held fast against the intrusion. He was not expecting the shocking, icy shiver of familiarity the feeling of the emperor trying to work his way in brought him.

The emperor felt his resistance and didn't push, smiling benignly.

Luke barely noticed. His heart had dropped into his shoes. He knew that dark feeling of intrusion. He'd felt it before. The memory was pressing in on his eyes and filling his mouth, he didn't understand, but he remembered, Luke remembered him, somehow-

When he was little, so little it was almost as far back as he could remember, he used to wake up screaming at night. Suffocating in the dark of his room, desperately crying for Aunt Beru. The darkness would turn terrible in his dreams, a monster that was clawing at him. It was laughing and incomprehensible and had been there always. This was what it had felt like. It was him, the thing he'd seen behind his eyelids at night-

The nightmares had stopped by the time he was four. He hadn't thought of them in over a decade.

Luke was shaking. He realized, faintly, that he was hiding it badly. The emperor was looking at him and wondering about it with cold calculation behind a welcoming smile.

Luke felt his father's heart sink like a stone at that friendly, gentle expression. Vader stepped forward, furiously protective. Something slipped through his cracking shields, a thought directed at Palpatine and racing unintended down their link with each other.

_You can't have him. Not him._

Luke didn't think the emperor had heard it.

"Master, you need not-"

"I shall decide what I need to do, Lord Vader," the emperor snapped. "I think it is past time I properly met your son, don't you?"

His father almost broke his own neck forcing himself to bow his head. "Yes, my master." The hate that billowed out of him towards the emperor could have destroyed billions. Vader wanted to rend his master's flesh and lay to waste everything he'd ever built, even if that meant he would have to stand with the ashes of the universe falling around him as it burned. If it meant he drowned in the blood of the citizens of the empire. He would destroy everything and everyone.

Luke felt his father’s feelings as clearly as a knife through his chest, and looked up at the emperor with wide eyes. He expected Palpatine to lash out, and was half bracing himself to fight for their lives then and there.

The emperor chuckled delightedly, as if well pleased.

"Your father," he said warmly, "is very protective of you. Is the reverse true, I wonder?" He leaned forward a little and spoke as if he was sharing a secret. "I sense it is the feelings for your father that have brought you to his side." Butter wouldn't have melted in his mouth.

"Yes," Luke said. This part was in his plan, but since he'd already decided his plan was crap and possibly the worst idea he'd ever had, he wasn't particularly confident. Still, he had to try. "I felt he was in danger. I had to come."

"Yes, I have heard." His voice turned admiring. "It seems I owe you my thanks, young Skywalker. To have my right hand and dearest friend murdered by an assassin would have caused me great distress."

_Lie._

It was interesting; That particular aspect of the Force was hard to hear in the emperor's presence. It was speaking as clearly as ever but it was like there was a lot of white noise drowning it out. If Luke hadn't been forced to become exceedingly good at peeling the truth from lies he might not have been able to tell one way or the other.

It was a little depressing, but the more time Luke spent with his father, the better Luke got at that particular skill. His father lied to himself with painful regularity. What his father said, what he meant, and what he felt were often wildly different from each other. 

Even so, Luke only just caught the lie by his fingernails. Listening to the Force in that way required nothing but the ability to hear the Force and the concentration it took to pay attention when it spoke. Luke’s attention focused like Captain Piett when his father was giving orders while in a foul temper. After a moment of effort, the white noise faded. 

He started to think, for the first time since he'd walked in the door, that maybe he could do this.

"He was my father's apprentice," Luke said sharply. "He didn't deserve to be." It wasn't a lie. No part of it was a lie. His father was Anakin Skywalker, and didn't deserve the pit he was trapped in. The assassin he'd fought had been poisoned by bitterness and fear and pain, and hadn't really deserved it either. 

The emperor's expression changed in a way that was hard to define.

"Do I spy a hint of ambition, Commander Skywalker?" he said, his smile somehow different, his voice even softer. Sympathetic. "And perhaps...yes. Loyalty?"

"I gave the assassin a chance. He shouldn't have gone after my father." Luke said quietly. It was utterly factual and completely true. Luke still remembered that flinch of alarm watching the assassin's lightsaber score the front of the bacta tank Vader was inside. The cold understanding that he was going to have to kill the man close up, while staring into his eyes, and it needed to be done immediately.

He'd seen his father's face, afterwards. His real face. The memory plucked at his heart.

Luke didn't have to find a way to tell the truth creatively. The assassin shouldn't have gone after Vader.

Something in his father reared up at his simple statement of fact. Huge and pleased and violently possessive. For a moment the feeling of the emperor was gone, completely blotted out with the thundering power at the heart of Vader's presence in the Force. For one second, every corner of his father's soul snarled out a single word, all at once.

_Mine._

Luke took a deep breath as the silent shout faded, his eyes huge. Growing up he'd wished his father was alive, was just out there lost somewhere on some amazing adventure. That he wanted Luke, but just couldn't get to him. A side effect of those kind of dreams was that the experience of being wanted by his father all the way to the destruction of the universe and beyond made him feel (in addition to the rational feeling of alarm) kind of childishly gratified.

The emperor's presence crept back in, but much quieter. 

He didn't seem angry. He seemed rather like someone had surprised him with a gift he was delighted to receive.

"You are a surprisingly good influence on your father, young Skywalker," he said warmly.

_Truth._

Luke blinked at that, thrown. Sometimes the Force would only tell the truth of what the person themselves believed. Sometimes it told the truth as it was, regardless of belief. And sometimes, it told both. This, bizarrely, was both.

"It is a relief to see such loyalty in you. Indeed, Lord Vader requires it in all who serve him."

Luke felt a flicker of outrage. _Serve?_ "I didn't say-"

Palpatine held up a hand, as mild as a spring day on Yavin IV. "Don't mistake me. After all," Palpatine smiled, "don't all sons serve their fathers in some way?"

"I...don't know." Luke had the distinct feeling of being herded. His father was feeling a sudden swoop of dread Luke didn't understand. He wanted to get Luke out of there. He knew Palpatine was going somewhere with this, and he wanted to keep Luke from following him, from seeing-

His father either felt Luke or his master listening, and he locked himself down viciously. 

Palpatine was looking at Vader, and nodded sadly to himself as if he'd just had his suspicions confirmed. 

"You'll find in life, young Skywalker, that the things people demand in others are often the things they themselves lack." He spoke like he was kindly giving advice. "Loyalty has always been a quality your father has struggled with."

Luke frowned. That wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either.

"He killed the Jedi Order who raised him, and betrayed his old master, Obi-wan Kenobi- who taught you as well, before your father killed him, is that not correct?"

"...Yes," Luke said hesitantly, thinking against his will of that terrible moment when his father had slashed out with his lightsaber, and Obi-wan had fallen.

His father trembled once, head to toe. More alarmingly, the deck under Luke's feet echoed him.

Palpatine's face was sad, and there was something horrible about it. "And of course, there was the tragedy of your dear mother."

Luke blinked, startled. His-? Then his brain put together the meaning of what the emperor had just said, and he snapped his head toward his father. 

"My mother," he said, and was surprised to hear something dangerous in his own voice.

His father was silent, fists clenched. It felt like the pressure in the room had skyrocketed. Something in the walls made a groaning sound.

"Oh yes," the emperor said, all earnest innocent concern. "Certainly he did not mean to kill her, you must understand that. It wasn't really murder."

Luke took a single step back.

His father broke. The walls punched outward, the lights sparking as they were crushed. The strange pod was wrenched from its position and thrown into a corner. His father charged forward and stopped just a few feet away from Palpatine's light-constructed face.

The force of his father's rage didn't touch Luke, didn't even make him stumble. Luke was fastened to the deck. He would live and die there and the only thing echoing in his head would be the words 'it wasn't really murder'.

"You will not speak of her!" his father snarled at Palpatine, all pretense of control gone. The deck had started to go, crumpling underneath them, wadding up like it was gripped by a massive fist.

"Does the boy not deserve to know the truth about his own mother?" the emperor exclaimed, sounding genuinely shocked and outraged. 

Vader leaned back a little, like he'd been shoved. "You-" he started, obviously rattled.

"I want to hear," Luke interrupted stonily. "Let him talk."

Slowly, like he was facing his own execution, his father turned his head to look at him. The despair coming off him was so thick Luke could taste it.

"Is it true?" Luke asked him.

Vader said nothing, but that familiar self-hatred filled him up until that was almost all he was. Just a thing hating itself wearing a black life support suit. Luke had a strange notion if he took off his father's helmet there would be nothing inside but that feeling.

The thought hit Luke like lighting in the desert sky at night. His father had felt that way in the small control room, before he'd left to speak to the emperor. Luke had recoiled in horror from his father's rage and Vader had seen something familiar in it, something that made him hate himself the way he hated himself now, thinking of-

_What had he been picturing?!_

"Did you kill her?" Luke demanded, louder. He pushed at his father with the Force, shoving hard. 

_You tell me. You tell me!_

"Yes," his father said, hopelessly.

_Truth._

Luke turned away from his father, blocking him out as he reached for Luke desperately through the Force. Luke fixed his eyes on the ceiling, the wall, anything but his father or the monster he'd sold himself to and betrayed everyone he loved for. Luke took deep breaths, like he'd been hit hard in the stomach.

There was something...there was something. What his father said was true but there was something-

Palpatine was talking as if someone was listening, about how much he'd cared for Luke's mother and what a dear friend she'd been. Something like that. As if he was a normal man, not an old horror from Luke's nightmares. Like he hadn't just taken Luke and his father and torn them to pieces without even being in the room with them.

Luke's heart went still at the thought. Slowly, he turned his head toward the emperor's projection. 

"I am surprised Obi-wan never told you the story himself, I wouldn't expect him to lie about a thing like that." The emperor was so genuine and sorrowful for the way Luke had been treated.

And he was the nightmare from Luke's dreams as a child, and was loving every second of this. Luke could feel his absolute delight like bitter poison in his mouth. He was positive he shouldn't be able to, and that it was very far from anything the emperor wanted. Luke could feel it anyway.

At that moment. At that precise moment. He was closer to falling to the dark side than he had ever been in his life. Closer than he ever would have believed. He saw the joy Palpatine was hiding as plainly as Luke could feel how much his father wanted to die, and nearly reached out across the stars and killed him right there in his throne room.

He could do it. He could see it, foresight coming at him in brutal clarity. His father had been right about one thing- the emperor was there in spirit, and that was enough for Luke to get to him. He was strong enough. Luke could reach out his hand with the rage currently burning in his heart and strike him down, and he would never regret it, not for a single moment until the day he died a hundred years later, laughing with the blood of billions at his feet. He could see it. It could happen. It could be his destiny, if he wanted it.

Luke felt cold in a way he couldn’t describe.

The strange chill was familiar. On Dagobah he'd felt it from the outside first. Then he'd felt it from within, in his own heart, if only for the briefest moment across lightsaber blades against the man he’d thought had killed his father. 

He suddenly thought of Yoda's face, his expression of calm determination.

_In you must go._

_What's in there?_

_Only what you take with you._

"Obi-wan lied to me about a lot of things," Luke said, feeling vaguely lightheaded. He took a step back, in every sense of the word. He felt something unseen shift around him, just slightly. It felt strange. Other.

"Your father, too, I'm afraid," Palpatine said sorrowfully. Joyfully. He knew precisely what to say. Like he could see through the walls Luke had put up, right to the weak spots in Luke's heart. The same weak spots that had put him in his father's suit in that vision in the cave.

_Only what you take with you._

Everyone carried a unique path to anger in their hearts. The question was, could it be put down when it needed to be?

Luke had never seen Yoda the way he still saw Obi-wan. Maybe he never would. But at that moment, Luke could have sworn he felt Yoda there. Like he was close by, just watching. 

The thought of it painted something warm and calm over his heart. It made the situation very obvious when something immediately tried to tug at that calm, to break it into pieces. 

Luke knew the words Palpatine wanted from him, and after a moment's thought, he gave them.

"But not you," Luke replied. "You haven't lied."

"My boy," the emperor said, like he was talking to a beloved child, and Luke was pretty sure all of Coruscant shivered with the echo of his pure satisfaction.

The white noise had gotten louder, almost drowning out anything the Force could be telling him, about what was true and what was lies.

It was clever. If Luke hadn't gotten so good at telling one from the other he suspected he would have been in a great deal of trouble.

He took a step to one side, testing. He felt that slight shifting again. Like something was moving with him. He could tell Palpatine had done something, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was. 

The Force gave him a strange little nudge, and he looked up at the emperor, speaking impulsively.

"Tell me the truth, then. My father could be lying now. He could have lied to you." Luke swallowed hard. "Are you sure? Did you see it? Do you know for a fact that he killed my mother?"

Palpatine sighed sadly. With glee. "I did not see it myself, my dear young Skywalker."

_Lie._

"But I'm afraid I have no doubt it was indeed your father who killed her in a moment of rage."

_LIE._

Luke's brain briefly whited out.

Why did he know what it felt like to have the emperor closing in around him. Why had he known it from the moment he could remember ever knowing anything. Why did he know that. How did he know. The questions dropped like dead things all around him, and he was starting to see the shape of the answer.

Luke turned towards his father with a sense of rising horror. When his father admitted to killing his mother, it had been true. There had been something in the Force that had disagreed, that had said 'not quite' but Luke had been too shocked to really listen. Which meant his father believed, completely believed it- 

His father was on his knees, Luke realized with a jolt.

He was reaching for Luke in the Force, fierce and adamant, but his body was utterly still. Luke barely had to open his perceptions to realize Palpatine was holding him there. He'd crushed his father to his knees and pinned him in place in order to work on Luke and Luke had been so caught up in it he hadn't even noticed.

Luke felt a wrenching stab of guilt.

Palpatine had thrown power all around his father, long tangled strings like torn spiderwebs. As soon as Luke saw them he realized he was covered in it, too. Palpatine had strung them both up so skillfully Luke hadn't noticed he was doing it even while he was suspecting every word coming out of the emperor's mouth.

Luke turned on the emperor. "Let go of him."

Palpatine raised what probably would have been his eyebrows, genuinely surprised.

Now that he was looking, those wisping threads of power were sitting on his father a bit differently than they were on him. They were kind of hanging off Luke, doing something to his emotions. He wasn't sure exactly what, but it was making him feel...rougher. On edge. But his father...they looked like they'd been fitted to him. Like they'd been put there so often they'd worn grooves into his soul. 

Luke stepped up between his father and the image of Palpatine. Protectiveness rose up in a massive wave and slammed a wall ten thousand miles high between them.

Luke heard his father catch himself on the deck behind him. Whatever had been wrapped around Luke vanished rather hastily.

He caught a thought from Palpatine, a real thought, tinged with a bit of regret and self-recrimination.

_Overreached..._

"Of course," Palpatine soothed. "I mean no harm to your father, I simply did not want his reactions to keep me from telling you the truth."

"Right," Luke said coldly. He turned his head slightly, hearing his father get to his feet. "I should go. I need to think." 

"You have given me much to think about as well, my dear boy," the emperor said. "It may be that you are an excellent influence on each other. It is a terrible thing for a father and son to be at odds. Such a thing must be confronted in order to move past it."

There was some kind of threat there.

His father moved up to stand at Luke's elbow. They couldn't risk speaking to each other, or even thinking to each other, but just the silent implication of having his father at his side was comforting.

"Yes," Palpatine continued thoughtfully, looking between the two of them. "I must make arrangements for this with your father, young Skywalker. Leave us."

Palpatine wasn't the emperor for nothing; There was enough command behind the order that Luke actually shifted his weight as if to obediently head for the door. He stopped himself, startled. Then, deliberately, he looked at his father.

He knew, with a rather bleak flash of humor, that his father only saw his slight movement at Palpatine's command, and Palpatine only saw Luke looking to his father for the go-ahead before leaving.

The dark side made people exhaustingly insane, Luke thought.

When Luke made no further move to leave, his father finally realized Luke wasn't going anywhere unless he said something. 

His father turned to face him. "My master does nothing without reason. You will learn this when you stand at our side. You will learn many things, including obedience. Now go, my son."

Luke couldn't pick up a single thing from him, feelings or thoughts, but the message was crystal clear. _Get out, you reckless idiot._

Luke nodded reluctantly, and eyed the emperor with suspicion. Palpatine was looking at him with a cold calculation Luke could almost follow. Luke could see the thoughts moving, though he could only feel roughly how the emperor felt about them. He suspected it was exactly what he'd hoped to put in the emperor's mind when he'd first had the idea for a 'keep the emperor from killing my father' plan. The plan had crashed and burned in an ironic and terrible way, but it had planted the idea anyway.

The emperor was thinking that Vader had been right all along; Luke could be turned, and he was worth the effort it would take to turn him.

Luke and the emperor had no connection. He couldn't read Luke very well, but he could sense Luke's feelings in the Force. Luke used that brief moment of the emperor's consideration to look deliberately from the emperor to his father, then back again. He projected his feelings with complete clarity. 

_You'll never get me without him._

The Emperor's eyes went wide in rather terrifying delight. 

His father was as safe as Luke could make him. Feeling shaky and sick, Luke left.


	6. Chapter 6

The look on his master's face was chillingly familiar. His pleasant, concerned expression felt like a lightsaber blade headed for Vader's face. He wanted to tear the ship apart, destroy everything and anything he had to in order to stop the words he knew were about to come from his master's mouth.   
  
Vader should have sabotaged the ship's communications. He should have blown the power grid and sent his master a regretfully repentant recorded message. He should have crashed the damn ship.   
  
He should have spoken to Luke about his mother.  
  
Just faintly, he felt a swell of horror growing in his son's mind. Luke had closed himself off tightly; It was only his sudden distraction that allowed Vader to sense his feelings. He very much doubted his master sensed anything from Luke at all.   
  
Not that he needed to. His master's delight was palpable. Palpatine looked at Luke in feigned sorrow and confirmed the truth about what Vader had done to Luke's mother, his voice skillfully driving nails into everything Vader had tried to build between himself and his son.  
  
Vader had the sudden, familiar sense of everything he cared about crumbling around him. He would not have believed that the second time could be worse than the first.   
  
Luke had accepted him as found-again-family, as openly and fiercely as Anakin himself had been taught to. More so, perhaps; He had lived on Tatooine far longer than Anakin. The memory of his acceptance was tender and warm. Luke had been loyal to him, throwing Yoda and Obi-wan's treacherous machinations aside and refusing to betray him again and again.   
  
And now-  
  
The shock and horror he felt in his son melted easily into Vader's memory of the moment in the control room when he had lashed out. Luke had looked at Vader then as his mother had looked at him, the last time he'd seen her alive.  
  
As he killed her.  
  
Luke looked so like him, but in that moment his expression mirrored Padme's perfectly. In that horrible memory her face melted into Luke's and Vader could almost see himself killing his own son.  
  
Vader felt a wrench of utter despair. If his master had not pinned him in place he might have ripped off his own respirator to smother in the open air.  
  
The emperor was setting the same kind of traps for his son that Vader himself had been caught by and Vader could do nothing to stop him. What could he say that Luke would possibly believe? That would not give everything away to his master? He'd fallen into a nightmare.  
  
Vader deserved his son's hatred, and far worse, but the thought that his own deeds would push Luke towards his master's control was beyond bearing. If Luke wished to cast Vader away, block his mind forever, or even slaughter him in the hallway for what he'd done to Luke's mother, he had every right to. But Vader could not abide seeing Luke become a servant of his master.   
  
The emperor didn't deserve him.  
  
Vader reached out to his son through the Force with a burning determination. He had an advantage over his master in that respect; Vader's bond with his son was strong. His master had held sway over Vader for many years, but possessed no tie to Luke at all.  
  
It occurred to Vader that if Luke's hatred toward him grew strong enough to tear that connection asunder, the bond between them was strong enough that it might shred Vader's mind beyond recovery.  
  
The thought was oddly comforting.  
  
The emperor was trying to influence Luke's feelings, to slant his senses in a way that would make Luke easier to control. It was a power he used often. When Vader reached for his son, the familiar effect felt strange and warped; As though the emperor was falling far short of persuading his son of anything at all.  
  
Luke turned toward him, his face white. He stiffened in surprise at the sight of Vader on his knees. Vader sensed him reaching out, feeling along the edges of his master's power with a confusing flare of guilt. His son turned his head sharply.  
  
"Let go of him," Luke demanded, surprising him.   
  
His master hadn't expected it, either.   
  
Deliberately, Luke stepped between the emperor and Vader. There was something weighty about the gesture.  
  
For a moment, Vader saw another time, another place. His son again stepping forward, between the emperor and his father.  
  
_You've failed, your highness._  
  
Vader felt a familiar swell of power rise up from his son. The Force loomed huge and wild and slammed down between Vader and the emperor like a Super Star destroyer crashing out of orbit. Blast doors clanged shut, and Vader sagged to the ground, his master's bonds severed.  
  
He dragged himself to his feet to stand at his son's side. It was the least he could do.  
  
His master turned calculating and deadly, and Vader closed himself off as tightly as possible. He recognized the feelings he was picking up from the emperor. His master wasn't taunting or testing anymore. He was, Vader realized with dread, _interested_ in Luke.  
  
Relief and alarm rose in equal measure. Luke would live through this meeting. He would live through this and Palpatine would make certain he wrung every ounce of entertainment out of Luke until he was either mad and raving or a Sith Lord himself. But he would not die today, unless he did something very stupid.  
  
Vader realized he was snarling at Luke within his own mind, though he had locked himself down so tightly Luke would never hear him.  
  
_Get out, get out right now, get out right now you utter fool of an idiot child..._  
  
Luke could not hear Vader in his mind, but he gathered the meaning from his words. To Vader's relief, he left.  
  
Luke was safe. Safe for now.  
  
Vader looked up at his master, and slowly sank down again on one knee. More than ever before, it felt as though he was giving something away in order to do it.  
  
The silence that fell with Luke's absence was like a boot at the base of his neck. The air was thick and heavy with sudden threat. There was a real risk Vader had slit his own throat with his insolence.   
  
Of course, the opportunity Vader's insolence had handed his master to manipulate his son probably reduced that risk, Vader thought with a flash of hatred toward himself.  
  
After a long moment of thought, the emperor smiled.   
  
"You have done well, Lord Vader," he said pleasantly. Frost condensed from the air and began to crawl up the walls with the feigned warmth in his voice. "He will be as useful to us as you always believed."   
  
He gave Vader an even look that told Vader very clearly how aware he was that 'usefulness' wasn't the reason Vader wanted his son at his side. What was alarming was how little his master seemed to mind.  
  
The emperor's voice sharpened. "Move your fleet to Endor, and ensure the battle station is completed on time."  
  
The instruction was somewhat ironic given Vader himself was partially responsible, through various intermediaries, for the delays in its construction. At least his master seemed to be unaware of that.  
  
Palpatine continued. "Take young Skywalker with you. It seems you are fated to turn him yourself." The emperor smiled. "It is his hatred for you that will be his undoing."  
  
Vader had a violent urge to strangle him. It was fortunate he had learned to shield so well; It was probably the only reason Vader was still alive.  
  
"When I arrive he will be expected to prove his loyalty," Palpatine gazed at him beatifically, "and then you will give him to me."  
  
Vader lowered his head with a surge of fury he did not quite manage to rein in, because he didn't care enough to try. Fury against the emperor. Against himself.   
  
"It will be done, my master," he seethed.  
  
The emperor sensed his feelings and gave him a vastly amused expression. Vader got an impression that his master approved of the new window to his rage his son obviously represented.  
  
"I look forward to seeing his progress." The emperor hesitated, and his tone of voice changed, became more thoughtful. "And yours." Without further comment, he switched off.  
  
Vader remained on his knees for a moment, listening to his respirator cycle.  
  
He still needed to protect his son, whether Luke hated Vader or not.   
  
Realistically, he hadn't counted on surviving the battle with the emperor. An assumption like that would only lead to careless mistakes. But he had indulged in thoughts of his master defeated and Luke at his side. Perhaps the foolish sentiment that colored his son's feelings toward him could remain untouched. Perhaps those feelings were something he could have, and keep.  
  
No longer.   
  
If he couldn't manage to find some way to defeat his master on his own, he would have to tolerate the painful future he envisioned his weakness would entail. If his master was confident or greedy enough, he would try to keep them both; From his response to Luke and Vader's interaction, that almost seemed plausible. Whatever the traditions of the Sith were, his master always seemed perfectly content to have a wide variety of dark side users at his command. In that case, Vader would simply have to continue serving his master and protect Luke as best he could.  
  
If his master was cautious, he would have them try to kill one another.  
  
Vader had no doubt, in that case, that Luke would oblige. Whatever strange impulse had led Luke to protect him from his master's control, it did not alter the fact that after learning the truth, Vader had felt his son hovering on the edge of the dark side. Luke had nearly attacked Vader then; He certainly wouldn't refuse if his master brought his full skills to bear in convincing him.  
  
A sudden thought chilled Vader's soul. If they did fight, it might actually be better if he killed his son to keep him from a life on his knees, calling Palpatine 'master'. Vader knew too well what would be in store for him in the emperor's service.  
  
After a frozen moment, Vader shoved the thought aside.  
  
Vader got to his feet. The surrounding room had sustained significant damage due to his reaction to the emperor's taunting. He stared at it blankly, oddly fascinated by his own strength. He had not been motivated to lash out so violently in years.   
  
_He will be as useful to us as you always believed_ , the emperor had said.  
  
The words settled in his mind, each word a carefully aimed blow. A hollow, dangerous sort of idea started to simmer in Vader's thoughts. Sentiment was merely another tool for his master to use.   
  
_He did not mean to kill her. It wasn't really murder._  
  
She was just another tool for his master to use. Perhaps she always had been.  
  
The idea pounded in his mind, leaving him dazed. It was as he had feared; Vader had provided his master with all the tools he needed to destroy his son. The attachment he had allowed to grow between them would only be used to doom them both.  
  
Something like a faint scream began howling in the back of Vader's mind.  
  
It was ironic; Yoda would have gloated in triumph to see Vader finally, finally see the dangers in attachment only now, after all he had done in defense of it.  
  
Vader took two steps into the corridor and stopped dead.  
  
Luke was waiting for him, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. Artoo stood beside him, twittering softly.   
  
His son had been wary enough to retreat some 30 meters down the hallway from the room containing the hologram of the emperor. It was not far enough; If Luke had not locked himself so tightly away from the force, the emperor could have reached him easily. However, the effort had been made.   
  
Luke's head snapped up, and he hastily pushed himself away from the wall. He was so well shielded it was almost as though he wasn't there. Luke said something, but Vader couldn't hear him over the roaring in his ears. Frowning, Luke started to approach him.  
  
"No," he said, taking a step back.   
  
Vader's self-control balanced on a razor's edge. He realized with a dim sort of horror that if Luke came to him now with hate and accusations, if Luke did so simple a thing as to speak the truth, Vader might snap and start slaughtering anyone within reach. He might kill himself, and his son with him.  
  
But then, death was always how the story ended with him and anyone he loved.  
  
He could not allow that, he thought in desperation. Vader did not often work to calm himself of anything as useful as anger, but he was certainly capable of it; At the moment, however, his own feelings seemed to slip through his fingers. Vader understood he was angry but it felt strange, useless, a meal the dark side somehow couldn't stomach.   
  
He couldn't let himself kill her again, he would not allow it, he would save her this time-  
  
Vader froze.  
  
"Father?" Luke's eyes were wide. Vader heard him, that time.  
  
Not Padme. His son. He...couldn't let himself kill his _son_.  
  
For a moment, his mind was utterly silent.  
  
Vader should never have allowed Luke's foolish affection to grow. He should have never allowed Luke to stand before him without fear. The moment of rage in the control room should not have made his son shocked or horrified; It should have been all Luke ever knew of his father, and the only thing Luke ever expected of him. If Vader had behaved as he ought to, Luke would have responded to the news Vader had killed his mother without surprise.   
  
Allowing Luke to care for him only made the pain he would feel at Vader's hand later that much more of a betrayal. Vader would destroy his son; It was only a matter of time.   
  
Luke was standing by the wrenched-open door, looking searchingly at his mask, as if he could somehow see the expression on his father's face if he only tried hard enough.   
  
Vader left him there.  
  
  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Luke was outside leaning against the wall, listening to Artoo make reassuring noises, when the emperor's presence finally faded. Artoo's attitude had changed dramatically once Luke had returned and Artoo had gotten a good look at him. Luke had a sneaking suspicion it might be pity.  
  
Luke sagged a little in relief as that slick, dark presence vanished. He pinched the bridge of his nose; The feel of the emperor had left him with a bit of a headache.  
  
Artoo warbled encouragingly, misunderstanding him. ' _If it's not scrap, there's hope_.' Or something like that.  
  
' _System failure in a Primary Administrator can be difficult for Derivations to repair,_ ' he continued. Luke was less certain about the meaning of that one. Artoo sounded sympathetic, though. Luke was about to try and get him to explain when his father swept into the hallway.  
  
Vader saw him and froze.  
  
Something was very wrong.  
  
Luke pushed himself away from the wall, his heart dropping in his chest. Everything he'd wanted to say in front of the emperor but couldn't crowded into his mind all at once. A thousand reassurances and explanations and questions all tangled and folded over each other.  
  
"You can't believe him." Luke had the sick sensation that no matter what he said now, it would be too late. _Too late for what?_ He didn't know.   
  
Luke went to him, his voice urgent. "The emperor was lying, I felt it. You didn't kill her."  
  
"No," his father agreed, taking an oddly nervous step back. His tone of voice was strange. Luke was suddenly uncertain; He'd been sure his father believed it.   
  
Frowning, Luke tried to reach out. His father had thrown up a shield ten thousand meters thick, but the Force didn't give a damn; It was speaking clearly. Something dangerous had settled over Vader in a dark cloud.   
  
His father wasn't actually looking at him, Luke realized uneasily. He was sort of looking through him, at the floor.  
  
What had the emperor done? _What had he done?_  
  
"Father?" Luke said, in rising alarm. _I left him in there alone-_  
  
His father's mask lifted minutely, and Luke knew beyond a doubt he'd heard Luke that time; He was looking at Luke, not through him.  
  
It was somehow much, much worse.  
  
Something horrible heaved in Vader's mind and his shield cracked with an echoing rumble of compromised supports and doomed, crashing ships. It was just enough to get a flash of what the Force was so desperate for Luke to understand. Luke hissed in a breath, shocked.  
  
He could hear his father screaming.   
  
It wasn't an anguished cry for help. It was the metallic shriek of an X-wing pushed so far past its specs in a wild maneuver that even if it survived, it would never again be safe to fly. Luke was very familiar with that sound; Rebel pilots had to take chances if they wanted to survive. It was the scream of something riding the razor's edge of what it was capable of handling, a hair away from a critical failure. Luke's heart had made that sound for a while, after Bespin.  
  
Luke was watching his father tear himself to pieces and Luke didn't even think he noticed what he was doing to himself.  
  
Silently, Vader turned and walked away from him.  
  
Luke gaped after him.  
  
"Are you kidding m--father, wait!" he said in disbelief, running after him.  
  
He skidded after his father into a side room, and then immediately dove back out into the hall. His father had been calling the bridge, the screen just flickering to life. Luke's presence was known to some people, but not everyone.  
  
Several of his father's 501st were inside and turned to openly stare at him hovering just out of sight of the bridge feed.  
  
Luke shrugged. One of them gave him half a shrug in return. Luke was pretty sure he'd thrown a wall panel at the assassin's head to keep him from killing that particular stormtrooper.  
  
Piett must not have been on the bridge; His father was talking to the captain, passing on the emperor's orders. The _Executor_ and the rest of Death Squadron were heading out. Luke felt a brief crackle of anticipation in spite of everything. They were finally going to Endor. This was it. He would have to get a message to Leia-  
  
Luke took a single step forward and his father was suddenly there, filling the doorway. For the first time in a long time, he looked genuinely ominous. There was a...wrongness in the way he felt. Like he wasn't quite a stable, fixed point Luke could sense as 'my father' anymore. He'd become a chain reaction. One thing overheated and broke another thing, which broke another, and another. Luke wasn't standing in front of a person, he was standing in front of a speeder crash.  
  
All of Luke's excitement drained out of him and puddled rather anxiously on the floor. What had the emperor done?  
  
_I never should have left him._  
  
"I need to talk to you alone, right now," Luke said, glancing briefly behind him at the stormtroopers pretending not to be listening.  
  
"What you need is of little concern to me," Vader said, brushing him aside. The door hissed shut behind him, and he started walking away as though Luke wasn't even there.  
  
"What happened to you in there?" Luke demanded. "What did he do to you?"  
  
His father stopped dead. For a moment, it almost felt like the hull of the _Executor_ had been punctured. The air felt like it was rushing past him, like his father was gathering it up.  
  
"To me?" he said in a deadly voice. He turned and lifted his hand, curling his fingers as though about to crush something.   
  
Luke barely had time to register a warning from the Force.  
  
His father's presence wrapped around him and dragged him across the deck. For a split-second the position of his hand made him think his father was going to yank Luke's neck physically into his hand, but when Luke got close enough, Vader grabbed him roughly by the shoulders.  
  
"To me?!" his father repeated incredulously. He gave Luke a shake. "Do you understand what you've done? You've doomed yourself. He will use your hatred of me as a weapon to destroy you."  
  
The remainder of his father's shields split like an overripe fruit, falling wet and rotten at his feet. That strange, high pitched sound of an overstressed hull rang out, saturating the air. The vibration made Luke's teeth ache. He felt a fractured sense of self-destruction humming in his father's mind and it scattered flashes of terror everywhere, like a bright light on a cracked mirror.  
  
Vader's grip was tight enough it was starting to hurt. "Your foolish impatience has put you into his hands. He will let you think you have control, but in the end you will call him master."  
  
Luke's alarm kept growing with every new sentence out of his father's mouth.  
  
"You-hate you? Now?" Luke sputtered. "After everything I've overlooked, everything I risked to be here, you think I would decide to hate you now?" Luke pushed at Vader's chest, wrenching himself out of his father's grip. "Believe me, _father_ , if I was going to hate you I would have hit that point a hand ago!" He held up his prosthetic.  
  
Vader jerked back, like he'd been slapped. Vader's internal x-wing was howling with widespread fatigue damage; Another 30 seconds, and he'd probably lose a wing.  
  
He reached out to Luke and it felt desperate and strange; Vader didn't understand what he was finding in Luke any more than Luke understood what he was feeling in Vader. His father was absolutely hopeless, he couldn't even grasp a future where Luke wouldn't hate him, because-   
  
Wait. Hadn't his father heard him?  
  
"Father," Luke said gently. "You didn't kill my mother."  
  
Vader went very still, flickering with disbelief. Then, for just a moment, the bond between them ached with longing. Luke felt his father push it aside with a brittle fatalism.   
  
"Your optimism will not serve you here," he said quietly. "No, my son, I know very well what I did to her."   
  
Vader leaned toward Luke, and it was like he was shedding something as he moved. Somewhere, Luke felt the first stress fracture form in a material stretched past its limits.  
  
Vader continued, his voice ice cold. "Such pathetic ideals will do nothing but lead you exactly where it led her. You would do well to keep that in mind."  
  
_Truth._ Truth, but not quite.  
  
Luke wanted to pick at that, needed to understand what was happening in his father's head, but Vader didn't give him time. He turned and started walking, as if their conversation was over.  
  
"Where are you going?" Luke said, startled. They had to plan, they had to talk, _they had to talk._  
  
Vader stopped. He turned his head just slightly. "Malastare," he snarled.  
  
It took half a second for Luke to put it together.  
  
"What?!" Luke cried. _No_ , "no, please!"  
  
Vader whirled on him, cape flaring. He pointed at Luke aggressively. "You knew the price for your disobedience. This will be a long-overdue lesson in what happens to those who fail at a task I have given them."  
  
The emperor himself had taught his father how to impart a lesson to someone. People who failed Darth Vader died. This was something else.  
  
"Disobedience," Luke repeated incredulously. "This was always the plan. You were to announce you've caught me, and then we would draw him in together. Every second I was onboard made it more likely he would find out I'm here. I had to keep you safe!"   
  
Vader made a snarling sound.   
  
Luke spread his hands, bewildered. "Why are you doing this?"   
  
The shriek of over-stressed metal was deafening. Cracks were spreading ominously across the hull, and Luke had no idea why any of it was even happening.  
  
"Because now he will take you from me," Vader said, his voice thunderous. "The emperor will conquer your naïve refusal to accept the truth, and he will use it to set you against me. He will take you d-"   
  
Vader choked himself off.   
  
_-down a path I can't follow._  
  
Luke heard it as clearly as if Vader had spoken it. The quality of the thought was strange, though. For a moment he heard a faint feminine echo, as though his father was remembering those same words said to him by someone else.   
  
His father, Luke realized with alarm, was shaking. He looked like he was staring at the wall.   
  
"If you wish to survive the emperor," he continued in an oddly lifeless way, "sentiment is not something you can afford."  
  
Luke felt a lightning flash of understanding. This wasn't about his mother and what had happened; This wasn't about obedience. This was about Luke, and what his father feared would happen.  
  
_It may be that you are an excellent influence on each other_ , the emperor had said. What else had he said to Vader, after Luke abandoned him there? That he cared too much about his son? That Luke cared too much about his father?  
  
Luke thought of the emperor's face, pretending to be so regretful. He thought of the emperor's absolute delight in what he thought was Luke's horror at what his father had done. He'd relished the opportunity to twist them apart from each other.  
  
Maybe, Luke thought with a chill, the emperor thought Luke cared about his father precisely the right amount.  
  
Luke's eyes went wide. "You're not going to Malastare," he realized. The _Executor_ was probably already on its way to Endor by now. He was just trying to push Luke away.  
  
Vader snarled. "Fool." He roughly grabbed Luke's arm and dragged him back to the door he'd just exited. He pounded the door controls, and it slid open to reveal several Stormtroopers crowded around the entryway, obviously trying to listen in.  
  
His father threw Luke at them unceremoniously.   
  
"Take Skywalker to the quarters next to the training room, and keep him there. If he attempts to leave..." Vader looked down at Luke, and hesitated for a moment at whatever he saw there.  
  
Hurt, probably. Worry, definitely.  
  
Vader clenched his fists, stress fractures racing toward each other with a sound like something dying.   
  
"If he attempts to leave," Vader said, "remove his other hand."   
  
Luke watched in horror as the stressed hull cracked in half, and the wings finally sheared away.   
  
Vader turned his back on Luke and walked off.  
  
Luke hesitated for a critical moment, stunned. 

When he could think again, he was faced with the fact that he was the main reason his father was unraveling, and he genuinely wasn't certain if it would be better to give his father some time alone to settle his mind or to stay with him and risk upsetting him further.

While he thought about it, Vader passed through a door out of sight. The way it made Luke feel to see him leave made the decision suddenly easy. 

Luke tried to go after him, his heart twisting, and all three stormtroopers grabbed him.

"Sorry about this, Commander," said the one he was pretty sure he'd saved. "We, ah-"

He looked down at Luke's hands, shifting awkwardly. An apologetic 'If you keep this up I'm gonna have to amputate that'.

Luke suddenly wanted to go home to the Rebellion so much he could taste it. He wanted to go back to where sane people lived. Sane-ish.  


It was probably around dinnertime, if he was thinking correctly about the time conversion. If he was there, Leia would be sneaking him some horrible core world food that she thought was better than rations, and Han would laugh at Luke trying to politely choke it down. As soon as Leia turned her back Luke would shove it at Han, who would go at it like he hadn't eaten in years. Then Chewie would pull out something that was _actually_ better than rations, and they would share it while Han dramatically retched.

Luke tilted his head back and closed his eyes in weariness. Why couldn't he have been secretly related to Leia or Han? Or Chewie, even. At least Wookies could cook. Wookies didn't enslave themselves to dark force-wielding monsters.

"Maybe Chewie will adopt me," Luke muttered to himself.

"Sir?" a stormtrooper asked hesitantly.

Luke dragged his thoughts back to the problems at hand.  


Luke could get away from the stormtroopers without a problem. He could feel how unenthusiastic they were about trying to keep him from doing anything, given what they'd seen of his fight against the assassin. However, that was a significant decision which might end with him on the run across the _Executor_ or even forced to escape the ship entirely. Vader didn't seem like he was in the right headspace to make reasonable decisions about Luke's safety as far as the orders his men would be following while trying to catch him.

If his father didn't immediately need his help it might actually be smarter for Luke to wait. It wasn't like Vader wouldn't return- Luke was basically in his extended quarters.

Cautiously, Luke reached out toward his father in the Force. Luke wasn't trying to contact him or even catch his attention; He just wanted to feel what was going on his father's Force signature. He sort of warmed his hands in the firelight of his father's emotional state. It was immediately obvious that it was a garbage shute fire of rage and anguish and shredding sanity. It roared higher and stronger every moment Luke looked at it.

He should have gone after his father right away, Luke realized in growing alarm.

Luke caught something from Vader that was hovering in the flames. Not a thought; His father was feeling too hard to think. It was more like an intent. He was headed toward a specific destination like a blaster shot toward a target, and he was going to have the same effect as the shot would wherever he landed.

A thought poured like cold water down the back of his neck. Piett hadn't been on the bridge. 

Luke started slapping at his pockets in the universal gesture for 'where did I put that spanner'. He came up with a comlink, which under the circumstances was a lot more useful to him than a spanner. Luke flipped it on.

"Admiral Piett?" he said, trying not to sound as rattled as he felt.

There was a second of very heavy silence. 

"Commander Skywalker." Piett spoke with the careful caution of someone who knew he wouldn't be getting a call on his private line unless something unpleasant was about to happen.

Every ounce of the stormtroopers' attention suddenly swung around to focus on what Luke was saying. One of them almost dropped his blaster. Apparently overhearing him have some kind of Sith-Jedi Force disagreement with Darth Vader was less weird for the 501st than Luke possessing the admiral of Death Squadron's personal comlink code.

"Where are you right now?" Luke demanded.

"The detention cells, as Lord Vader commanded," Piett replied, surprised.

"Get out of there," Luke said urgently. "Get everyone out of there, now."

"Skywalker," Piett said irritably, "this is not some kind of slipshod-"

"My father is headed right for you," Luke interrupted with desperate intensity. _"Get out of his way, Firmus."_

He heard Piett catch his breath. Luke realized, belatedly, that he'd never called the Admiral by his first name before. He very much wanted Piett to be around later to be stiff and uncomfortable about it.

"How long?" Piett asked, his voice tight. He sounded like he was already moving.

Luke shut his eyes, reaching out. "He's...I don't know this ship very well. He left here about five minutes ago."

Piett made a faint hissing sound. Luke heard a distinct crackle over the line, the sign of someone pressing a comlink against clothing to muffle the pickup. Luke still managed to make out the tone of Piett's voice- he was snapping orders out to someone.

"The interrogations will be ready to proceed momentarily," Piett said crisply, his inflection very distinct. "Will you be...assisting?" 

_Get down here._

"I'm on my way," Luke said, switching off. 

The stormtroopers shuffled around, suddenly uneasy.

Luke lost his patience. "If you want to call the admiral back to inform him I'm an escaped prisoner and need to be dragged away from the interrogation he just asked me to help with, feel free." He offered the comlink to the trooper on his right. The trooper looked at the floor.

Neither he nor the guy Luke had saved tried to stop Luke from leaving. The guy on his left, however, didn't know when to quit, and tried to hold him back. Luke swept his hand out, gave a push with the Force, and tossed him against the wall. Luke felt a bit bad about it, but he knew he'd feel a lot worse if he didn't get to the detention level in time to stop his father from burying Anakin Skywalker so far into the sand he couldn't be reached ever again.

He didn't know exactly where the detention level was, so Luke just kept the sense of his father close in his mind and followed where it led him. On the way someone noticed he wasn't supposed to be wherever he was walking and caught at his arm. Luke didn't have the attention to spare to deal with him, so he also went into the wall.

He felt his father stop moving. He'd arrived at the cells. Luke sped up, his heart racing.

Half a second later something bloomed in Vader's Force presence that was so horrifyingly dark it almost felt like the emperor's hologram had just switched itself back on.

Luke started to run.


	7. Chapter 7

Admiral Piett was waiting for him when the lift doors opened. Luke didn't get a single step out into the hallway before Piett was pushing him back. The doors shut behind the admiral, and he quickly hit a control that froze the lift.  
  
"What are you-" Luke started.  
  
Inexplicably, Piett handed him an oxygen mask. It was compact, but had a bulky seal; It looked heavy-duty.

"Uh..." Luke gave him a mystified expression.  
  
Piett looked at Luke like he'd just dribbled on himself. Like the need for a mask was obvious. "In case Lord Vader compromises the structural integrity for this deck," Piett nodded at the mask. "That'll give you enough air to get to one of the pressurized lifts, like this one."  
  
Luke did a swift, shocked translation in his own mind.  
  
"You think my father might blow out the hull? Of the _ship_?!" His voice was incredulous. "Why would he do that?!"  
  
Piett's voice was cool. "It's not my place to say."  
  
 _Wait._ "Wait, this has actually happened before?"  
  
Piett's gave him a strange look, as if this was something everyone knew. "Not on the _Executor_." Yet. The word went quietly unsaid. "We had a few...structural issues back on the _Devastator_ , from time to time, when his temper...got the better of him."   
  
The calm matter-of-factness of Piett's voice was terrifying.  
  
"If it's only a crack, or a seal on one of the windows, you might not notice right away. But if you start to get lightheaded..." Piett glanced down at the mask pointedly.   
  
He continued. "Lord Vader can operate comfortably in a vacuum inside his suit. Jedi or not, you're a little less durable." Then, awkwardly, he gave Luke's arm a pat.  
  
Luke had a sudden weird suspicion that by giving him an oxygen mask Piett had just made a very 'working on Darth Vader's ship' -specific gesture of friendship. But then, maybe Luke had done the same thing by warning Piett that his father was in a temper in the first place.  
  
"Right," Luke said, tucking the mask away. "Thanks." He gestured vaguely at the door, "is everyone cleared out?"  
  
Piett raised his eyebrows. "There is no official or unofficial reason for anyone on board this ship to evacuate this area, save for the customary privacy given to high ranking officers conducting interrogations of prisoners." He gave Luke a pointed look. "Lord Vader would no doubt be displeased to learn his men abandoned their posts for no reason."  
  
Luke's mouth was open, so he shut it.  
  
"This is crazy," he said.  
  
"We live in an imperfect galaxy, Skywalker," Piett sighed, which was probably the closest he could get to saying 'damn right, but what can you do'?   
  
Piett hit the control panel again, and the lift doors opened. "Best of luck with the investigation. I'm certain you will be of great assistance to Lord Vader."  
  
The door closed behind Luke, leaving him alone in the hallway. Piett either had a weird sense of humor or was a dirty liar; The place was deserted.   
  
His father's presence was heavy and thick in the air. It felt so darkly, bitterly cold it began to give Luke a headache. The center control station was unmanned, and Luke passed swiftly by. As Luke got closer, it almost started to feel like he was pushing his way through something. The place felt dead and unfriendly, like an old tomb that didn't want to be discovered.  
  
Luke went to the second cell down as confidently as if his father had called his name.   
  
Before he could open the door, his father's attention swung Luke's way with a flare of shock. The emotion felt like a sharp spike had driven itself cleanly through Luke's temple. He actually took half a step back, blinking hard.  
  
The door hissed open on its own and Luke had two seconds to fling himself out of the way before a body came flying out into the hall, screaming in terror.  
  
Vader followed in a shocking billow of frigid air, his arm outstretched. The man was slammed back against the wall, and then, nightmarishly, started to slide upward, toward the ceiling.  
  
The temperature of the hallway plummeted. His father was radiating such black, icy cold Luke felt like his breath should be fogging in the air.   
  
Piett had discovered that there had been two crew members that had helped the assassin get on board. The fellow screaming against the ceiling was probably the tech from the flight deck, by the look of his uniform. By the sound of him, Vader wasn't getting much out of him that would be useful.  
  
But then, Luke thought with a wince, that wasn't really what his father was trying to do here.  
  
"It is a pity," Vader said to Luke without turning his head, "that you do not value your limbs more highly." He raised his hand a little more and the tech slid up a little further against the ceiling.  
  
The tech realized Luke was there and started to beg for help.  
  
Strangely, Luke felt his father respond to it a little. Not mercy, or sympathy; It was more like it had given him an idea. A cold kind of satisfaction started to wind through the air.  
  
"But then, Skywalkers have always been foolish," Vader added, and curled his fingers slightly.  
  
The man on the ceiling started to choke and sputter.  
  
"You don't have to do this," Luke said urgently, stepping forward.   
  
"On the contrary," Vader said with relish, "It is past time you understood what the power of the dark side demands."  
  
Luke clenched his fists. His hands ached with the cold. "The power of the dark side? Or him?"  
  
Vader turned his head sharply.  
  
"This is exactly what the emperor wants, isn't it?" Luke stepped closer, searching the lenses of his father's mask. He suddenly wanted to see his father's face so badly it ached. Luke shook his head, his voice softer. "Don't give him what he wants."  
  
His father stared at him for a moment. Luke felt Vader grasp at the link between them, picking at Luke's feelings. The raging, icy sense of him in the Force stilled a little, a break in the storm. There was a brief sense of frustration at whatever he was finding-no. What he wasn't finding.  
  
He wanted Luke to be afraid.   
  
_His idealism will be the wedge that drives us apart in the end._

It was his father's thought, and it wrenched at Luke's heart.  
  
Vader turned to look back at the tech, who was still pinned to the ceiling. The man was openly weeping.  
  
"My son asks for mercy on your behalf," Vader said slowly. He cocked his head. "A pointless waste of time. Fortunately for you, I am inclined to indulge him." He swept his hand down, and the tech was deposited roughly on the floor, his legs giving out immediately. Vader turned toward Luke.  
  
"You may have five minutes to discover something useful." Vader pointed at Luke for emphasis. "If you fail, the remainder of his life is mine."  
  
Luke felt quite clearly how much Vader wanted Luke to fail. More than anything, his father wanted to pour all his hate and fear and rage into the man until he was paste on the floor. Vader wanted to wrap the darkness around himself until he felt powerful enough that nothing could stand against him.  
  
However, Luke also felt his father's cold, clinical satisfaction at a plan coming together.  
  
 _Break him your way, but break him. Or I will._  
  
The thought came at Luke with complete clarity. He wanted to tear Luke's idealism to pieces, and he thought this would do it. Luke stared at the weeping man in sick understanding. The assumption in Vader's mind was plain. He expected Luke to be kind. Reasonable. For him to throw out a little cord of sanity just long enough for Luke to strangle the tech with it.  
  
Vader turned on his heel and stalked off. Luke gaped after him, quickly re-evaluating pretty much everything he'd assumed.  
  
He turned to the tech, who was sobbing pitiably on the floor. Of course Luke wanted to be kind to him. What was unnerving was that his father had both expected it and figured out how to use it in the first half-second he'd heard the tech start begging Luke to save him.   
  
After the message from Palpatine, Vader had been beyond furious. He'd felt...unbalanced. And he was using the force of that rage as neatly as Artoo flipping Luke's x-wing into hyperspace. Like... Like a-  
  
Well, like a Sith Lord. Luke hadn't ever seen the process so clearly before. It felt a little like a betrayal to admit to himself that putting everything else aside, his father had been right about one thing; The dark side was powerful.  
  
Luke pressed his lips together and breathed out forcefully through his nose. He supposed it didn't matter. The Force was powerful in different ways; All that mattered was what part of it he decided was the most important to him.  
  
Moving slowly, Luke sat down next to the technician. He folded his legs and rested his elbows casually on his knees.  
  
If his father was hoping a simple interrogation would call everything he believed into question he was vastly underestimating the pragmatism the Rebellion was forced to operate under.   
  
"Hey," he said gently. "It's all right." He drew lightly on the Force, filling himself up with calm certainty. He repeated the words a few times, adding authority to his words. _Believe me_ , Luke pushed the Force to whisper.  
  
This was not, by any stretch of the imagination, his first interrogation.   
  
The man choked out something that resembled a laugh. "Like hell," he managed. He covered his face briefly, before looking up. "I'm dead."  
  
"You don't have to be," Luke said, feeling a twinge at the lie. He gave the man half a shrug, shoving his conscience aside. "Vader will listen to me." He would listen, but Luke doubted in this instance that it would make any difference to what his father would do.  
  
The man looked at him with the faintest sliver of hope.  
  
Luke leaned toward him, and drew the Force close. "You trust me," he said.  
  
The tech frowned slightly. "I trust you." He said the words like he was discovering them.  
  
Luke smiled slightly. The dark side of the Force might be powerful, but for this kind of delicacy, the light side worked better. It was sort of ironic, he supposed, given the dubious morality of literally changing someone's mind.  
  
"You want to tell me everything you know about the assassin, and why he was on board," Luke said. He gave the man's arm a gentle, encouraging pat.  
  
"I want to tell you," the man said, looking briefly surprised. He actually smiled a little.  
  
"Who sent the assassin here?" Luke asked lightly.  
  
The tech wiped at his face, relaxing a little. "I don't know, I don't think anyone did. He didn't even know Lord Vader was injured until I hacked the feeds to his chambers." He shook his head. "He was relieved. He had some kind of control box to switch Vader off, but he wasn't sure it would work-"  
  
Luke went cold. "Control box."  
  
The tech sniffed a little. "Yeah. Crazy, right? Everyone says he's some kind of cyborg. The guy thought he'd uncovered this great secret, that Lord Vader had an off switch." The tech gave a strangled laugh. "So stupid. I never should have trusted him, it wasn't worth the money."   
  
"No," Luke said, his voice cool. "I don't suppose it was." Luke's stomach had dropped into his shoes. Knowing that the tech had been in on a plan to literally turn his father off like an old vaporizor, he almost wished he'd left the guy pinned up against the ceiling.  
  
Luke sighed. He got to his feet and held out a hand. The tech took it, and Luke helped him up. He herded the tech back into his cell, a gentle hand at his back.  
  
"Is that it?" the tech asked, confused. "You'll talk to Lord Vader?"  
  
"Not quite." Luke took his comlink and slid the transmitter out of the casing, so it could only record. He looked the tech directly in the eye and handed it to him. "You will explain everything that happened. Everything you saw, everything you heard, everything the assassin did. From the first moment you were in contact with him until you were brought into this cell."  
  
"I'll explain," the tech repeated.  
  
"Good. I'll be back," Luke said briskly, unsettled. The door shut behind him, and he stood in the empty hallway for a moment, listening to his own breathing.  
  
During the first two weeks Luke had spent recovering on the _Executor_ after nearly killing himself holding it in orbit, the Force had been so loud Luke couldn't think. The world around him had seemed dreamy and strange, and he kept feeling the urgent need to do odd, extremely specific things. He'd took off wandering across the ship looking for Admiral Piett, despite the fact that Luke had never met him. He'd hotwired a communications console, called Chewie, and told him everything that had happened. Not Han, not Leia- it had to be Chewie.  
  
He'd been out of it enough that it hadn't occurred to him to wonder why he felt he had to do any of it. The Force had him by the back of the neck and was shouting in his ear. It had been hard for him to even think of questioning anything it was saying.   
  
So when his father had been idly examining Luke's lightsaber while Luke was having lunch one day and Luke had the sudden desperate need to tear Vader's throat out, Luke had simply gone with the urge without really thinking. He'd launched himself over the table and snapped the chain holding his father's cloak together like it was made of flimsy. Luke had been clawing at the bottom lip of his father's mask before Vader could do anything but exclaim in surprise.  
  
Vader had flared in outrage, pushing him back, demanding he explain himself. Luke had gotten a finger under the edge of the mask as the Force hummed in delight and started bending it back. Vader had slapped a hand against Luke's chest, and with his massive strength had unceremoniously slammed him into the ground.  
  
It had punched all the air out of Luke's lungs. That hadn't stopped his desperate need to rip the bottom edge of his father's mask aside and get at the thing sitting in his neck. Wheezing, Luke had scratched at his father's arm, trying to push past his iron grip.   
  
His father had snarled disgustedly at Luke. "There have been many attempts to kill me, but out of all of them, that was certainly the most pathetic." Or something like that.  
  
Luke didn't remember if he'd spoken. His father had crowded in, pushing at his thoughts. Luke had been crawling out of his own skin in frustration, confused why his father didn't understand, couldn't see that he had to get it out-  
  
His father's presence had flickered in surprise. He'd retreated from outrage into curiosity, feeling around the edges of Luke's certainty in the Force.   
  
"Luke," he'd said. "My son." Something about his voice had settled Luke's mind a little. "Your lack of focus makes you weak. You can speak. Do so."  
  
His father had knocked him flat, his left hand spread over Luke's chest, pinning him in place. Luke had frowned darkly up at him, tugging on it.  
  
"My focus is fine," he'd grumbled.  
  
Vader had tilted his head at Luke, and had actually seemed amused. "I will judge for myself, if I ever see any."  
  
Luke had blinked up at him, exasperated by his refusal to let Luke do what he obviously needed to do. "You have a kill switch," he'd said, catching his father off guard.  
  
"What?" Vader recoiled a little, letting up on the pressure keeping Luke down.  
  
Luke had pushed himself up and reached toward his father's neck. Vader caught his hand.  
  
"To the suit. Right there," Luke had said, looking past his father's armor and narrowing his eyes. "I can see it."  
  
Vader had stared at him with unease creeping through the air between them. "That is not..." He'd hesitated. "Your concern," he finished finally. "It has been dealt with. The man responsible is dead. It can no longer be activated."  
  
"You're wrong," Luke had said absently. He lifted his other hand. "Trust me. I need to-"  
  
Vader had batted his fingers away with visible irritation. "You need to do nothing but improve your control. The Force must obey your commands, not-"  
  
Luke had grabbed his father by both shoulders, shocking him silent. His father's presence in the Force warmed in a startled way, as it always did. Until Luke, no one touched Darth Vader affectionately. No one wanted to.   
  
"Listen," Luke had insisted. "I have to do this, can't you feel it? It has to be done, and it has to be now." The offending piece of tech had been etched into Luke's mind. He'd seen every piece of it, right down to the last molecule.   
  
Luke had blinked hard, unsure if he was actually looking into his father's neck or watching the thing as it was being constructed. The present and the past had been weirdly blurred together.  
  
His father had gone still, and Luke had felt him stretching out into the Force, testing Luke's words.   
  
Vader had coiled up in unhappy suspicion, but Luke had known the Force was being absolutely clear. Finally, he'd felt his father's presence press uncomfortably close, winding around him in a way that let him move, but seemed ready to react at the slightest flicker of betrayal. Luke had felt vaguely like his father had done something very specific to him that Luke would have been extremely nervous about if it had been explained.  
  
 _Proceed_. His father's mental voice had been cold. _Damage anything else at your peril_.  
  
Luke had relaxed in relief. His father reacted with an ominous flash of dark amusement, and something in his presence had tightened briefly in a very unnerving way.  
  
His father, Luke had realized, thought the fact that he was relieved right then was _funny_. As if Luke would be a long way from relieved if he'd understood exactly what his father had just done to him.   
  
Luke had taken a deep breath and pushed the thought away. He'd had an insistent, urgent sense of time running out. Luke had known what to do. He'd also known he wouldn't know what to do for very long.  
  
It hadn't actually taken much effort. Luke had placed his hand lightly at the base of his father's throat and stretched out to get his bearings. A small amount of pressure three molecules wide in seven different places, and the kill switch became just a useless lump of metal riding along the edge of his father's spine.   
  
His father hadn't thanked him. He'd seemed more puzzled by Luke's actions than anything else. As far as he was concerned no one alive knew the kill switch had existed, and as long as Luke didn't betray him, no one ever would.  
  
Given what Luke had just learned about the assassin's plans, he thought he might just make a point about getting that 'thank you'.   
  
Not for the first time, Luke sent some silent gratitude toward Master Yoda. Without his thoroughly memorable lesson on the power of belief, Luke never would have thought to try to stop the _Executor_. Nothing else that followed afterwards would have happened. So far, everything Luke had been prompted to do by the Force while he'd been recovering had proven to be important in one way or another.  
  
Knowing that, Luke couldn't help but wonder; If the assassin knew about the kill switch, did that mean the emperor did as well? If the emperor didn't know, how had the assassin figured it out?  
  
Luke walked out to the empty control station. Tentatively, he reached out. Luke caught the vaguest sense of his father somewhere near before Vader shut Luke out completely. As if in response to him, halfway down the opposite hallway, Vader stepped out of a cell. Luke heard a brief sound of sobbing, before the door shut behind his father, blocking it out.  
  
Luke had forgotten about the other conspirator.  
  
"What have you discovered?" Vader said brusquely, as he approached. As though Luke were just another officer. He used the same tone of voice with Admiral Piett.   
  
Luke felt a sinking, uncomfortable sensation. For the first time, he felt vaguely like a traitor. He should have just told his father what he'd found out; Vader certainly needed to know. But to Luke's reckoning, something about Vader's tone set a dangerous precedent.   
  
Luke would work with his father, but he wasn't an Imperial. He wasn't going to take orders from him.  
  
Luke frowned, and said nothing.  
  
Vader's voice from the vocoder was suspicious. "He has revealed something."  
  
"Yeah," Luke admitted. He raised his eyebrows, his tone going sharp. "And I didn't need to torture him."  
  
Vader stepped close, forcing Luke to tilt his head to look up at him. He'd clamped down hard on their connection, but Luke still felt a faint chill coming off him.   
  
"You presume my methods of interrogation are based on necessity," Vader said. "Their fear gives me power." He pointed at Luke's face. "It is this power that will defeat the emperor."  
  
"No, father," Luke said, searching the eyes of his mask. "I don't think it will. The dark side isn't stronger, it's just there. It's a choice you make. It's a choice you keep making and that you can stop making-"  
  
"Enough," Vader snapped. "That is the kind of hopeless denial of reality that will allow the emperor to manipulate you into serving him."  
  
"What?" Luke sputtered. "I'd never-You're the one-" He shook his head, biting the words back. "Why are you even worried about this? I know not to trust him."  
  
His father's shields cracked, scattering his splintered fears everywhere.   
  
"Because you are all I have!" His raised voice echoed down the hallway.  
  
Luke's eyes went wide.  
  
"I will not allow Palpatine to turn you against me as the Jedi turned your mother against me," he continued fiercely. "I will not watch placidly as he draws you to his side!"  
  
They stared at each other for a moment in heavy silence. Luke could feel that his father was at least as shaken by his outburst as Luke was.  
  
Luke could suddenly see the truth of what was going on distressingly clearly. His father's heart had torn great big gaping holes in whatever passed for his equilibrium. And Vader had no idea, not the slightest clue, how to deal with it.   
  
All of Luke's frustration and bewilderment blew away like sand in the wind.  
  
"Draw me to his side?" Luke repeated, his heart aching. "Father, that isn't going to happen."  
  
 _How can I help him see? _  
  
Luke had a sudden idea; He might be able to literally do that. He didn't know for certain if it was possible, but no one had ever told him it wasn't, and he was willing to try.   
  
"If making me his apprentice is what the emperor wants, he failed before he ever knew my name." Luke's voice was thoughtful.  
  
Luke took a step toward his father, grabbing onto the link between them with everything he had. Just how much could his father sense from him if he reached as hard as he could? If he left himself completely open and without defenses? Everything, he hoped. He needed his father to see what had happened.  
  
He reached back in his memory, as far as thought could take him. Back to the dark, oily, oppressive presence that had haunted his nightmares as a child. The thing that he'd seen behind his eyelids, over and over. A black smothering presence that wanted to crush the life out of him; Luke's first introduction to evil.  
  
"He failed the first night I woke up screaming in my bed as a kid," Luke said vehemently. He pulled those long-ago memories close and threw them into the Force, shoving them into his father's face.  
  
Luke had known his whole life exactly what it felt like to have someone want him dead. The nightmare creature made its desires clear. Luke fought every time, with everything he had, just to stay alive. Every time.  
  
For a moment the feeling of that thing filled him up, pouring into his mouth and down his throat until he was sick with it. It was easy to call to mind, given Luke had just felt it again, in the hologram room. His horrible shock of familiarity at the presence of the emperor vibrated along his link to his father, the wavelengths gaining power and speed with a rising, horrified realization that was not coming from Luke anymore-  
  
His father took a step back.  
  
 _Do you know for a fact that he killed my mother?_  
  
 _I did not see it myself, my dear young Skywalker._  
  
 _Lie._  
  
 _But I'm afraid I have no doubt it was indeed your father who killed her in a moment of rage._  
  
 _LIE._  
  
"I'll never join him, because I _remember him_ ," Luke said with savage certainty. "Do you understand?"  
  
"It is...not possible," Vader said, his presence dull with shock.  
  
"You think you killed my mother," Luke pressed on, giving no quarter, "but if it was you, then why do I know him? _Why_ _have I always known him?_ "  
  
His father twitched slightly, and the Force gave a terrifying lurch around them.  
  
The deck under Luke's feet heaved, just once. It felt like the kind of shudder that rippled through the ground on Yavin 4 after a massive tree had fallen.  
  
Luke knew, with flat-out certainty, that something monumental in the Force had just changed. The course of the future had just dropped out of lightspeed and changed vectors before it was even properly back in realspace, and the occupants were plastered to the walls as the internal gravity failed at the stress.  
  
Luke had felt his father's presence as a physical thing more than once. He knew, roughly, how to duplicate the effect, but he'd never tried it.  
  
The Force played a dissonant pair of warning notes in his ear, and Luke reached out almost reflexively to stop whatever was about to happen. He pinned his father in place, the Force surging around them both. Luke was barely in time to catch the explosion of power as his father's rage roared off into something resembling insanity.  
  
Luke let out a whuff of breath. For a brief, startled moment his feet slid across the deck as the impact of his father's power physically pushed him back. He tried, impossibly, to brace himself- _brace himself against what_ \- but somehow just the intention helped, and Luke was suddenly able to hold him back more easily. The strength of his father was staggering, but he could manage it.  
  
 _Piett was right. He would have blown out the deck._  
  
For a long, frightening moment it almost felt like his father was gone; Like he'd left an expanding explosion that was just the dark side and the fury that fueled it. It strained against him, and Luke pushed back, curling it in on itself, keeping it from wrecking everything around them.   
  
As he did it, Luke felt a flash of indignation cut through the rage. A feeling that was definitely his father settling into an insulted huff, thinking that no one was strong enough to contain him and how dare anyone try-  
  
His father's attention snapped toward Luke. His anger eased all at once, as if they had both stepped into the quiet eye of a hurricane.   
  
_Luke._ Vader had just realized something, though Luke couldn't say what.  
  
Then his father was reaching for him desperately, almost wild with it. Luke flinched at the feeling of his father pushing too hard, too frantically, combing through memories Luke didn't even properly have, he'd been so young. Vader plunged his arm into Luke's mindstream up to the shoulder and hauled a raw memory into the light Luke hadn't even realized he had until just that moment-  
  
It was the last time Luke had dreamed of that horrifying, malevolent presence. He'd been around four; He couldn't imagine how he'd forgotten. The nightmare had been so real, so oppressive, Luke had felt like the presence was actually killing him. Like he was being snuffed out. He fought so hard, but he could feel himself dimming, and he screamed and screamed and then Aunt Beru was there yelling in terror for Uncle Owen and the bed frame was split and splintered and Uncle Owen wouldn't come because he was at the door fighting with Obi-wan, refusing to let him in the house.  
  
How could Luke have ever forgotten that? Aunt Beru had held him for hours. Uncle Owen had slept by the door for a week with a blaster while Luke cuddled in their bed with Aunt Beru, and his uncle had told him that if Obi-wan ever came to the house or tried to take him somewhere he should run and hide.  
  
Vader was shoving through those memories, still pushing. It was too rough and too much. Luke had left himself wide open to his father in the hopes of drawing him back from the edge. He hadn't really worried about questions like 'is this safe'. A part of Luke's mind twinged in a way he thought was probably a sign of something very bad, and Luke started to push back, to close himself up, but his father was still searching for something and Luke didn't even know why...  
  
His father's desperation was coming off him in sheets. Luke got the smallest flash of just how much pain his father was in and was almost knocked off his feet.  
  
He was looking for her. Vader was looking for his mother in Luke's memories.  
  
His father's thoughts felt like a punch to the face.  
  
 _What if she'd lived?_  
  
 _He lied to me about everything else._  
  
 _Even for a little while, what if she'd lived-_  
  
His father shoved too hard at something that felt dangerously fundamental and Luke choked in a shivery, awful kind of shock. He didn't remember, he didn't remember, he couldn't remember that _stop it-_  
  
Vader recoiled from him in horror, as though he'd just nearly done something he would have never forgiven himself for.  
  
Luke dropped to his knees.  
  
He felt a flare of panic from his father. His presence suddenly wrapped around Luke tightly, feeling firmly supportive, like a hand pressed against a wound to stop the bleeding.  
  
Strangely, his father was thinking about Yoda.  
  
 _He must have trained Luke in that, he wouldn't have been so completely stupid as to let Luke face me, face the emperor without knowing-_  
  
The dark side fell away from his father like he was dropping one of his capes on the floor. An alarmed Anakin Skywalker was suddenly kneeling in front of him, grasping his arms to keep him upright. For the first time since the emperor's call, Luke saw pieces of his father's better side gleaming in the light.  
  
 _Ha,_ Luke thought spitefully. _Take that, your highness_.  
  
He passed out.  
  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------  
  
It had all been worthless. Everything he had sacrificed, every terrible choice he had made for the greater good. Worthless.  
  
The thought was dark and thick with despair. It sent the dark side churning, crackling down Vader's spine.   
  
Luke frowned in his sleep, shifting uneasily.  
  
Vader reached out to him, releasing the dark side and hurredly brushing his hand across his son's forehead. He could not bear to draw on the light, but he could pull up that wild, protective energy his son had begun to use nearly as often as the light. He held it close, softening it, using it to soothe Luke back into a dreamless sleep.  
  
As ever, his son did not react well to the dark side of the Force.  
  
But then, he had good reason to. After all, Luke had felt the focused malevolence of the dark side right from the beginning. Small wonder it had made an impact.  
  
He stared down at the sleeping, vulnerable form of his son. Vader could feel Luke's desperate exhaustion as if it was his own. Was it worse now than it had been?    
  
Anxiety burned uselessly under his skin. Of course his son would be fine. He was strong. At any other time Vader would have channeled such a pointless, irrational concern into anger, would have used it as fuel, but at the moment he didn't dare. The sense of his son in the Force was distressingly dimmed, but he could do nothing with his unease but endure it. For what felt like the hundredth time in an hour, Vader reached out to him. He gently passed over Luke's presence without intruding, reassuring himself that his son was undamaged by his brief moment of anger.  
  
There were holes in Luke's instruction that were appalling. He had a lack of knowledge about crucial subjects that Vader knew Obi-wan would have never tolerated during his own training. Lessons so basic had been omitted Yoda would have scoffed at any Jedi incompetent enough to fail to teach them. At least he would have when Anakin had known him. Perhaps they had resigned themselves to a level of pragmatism in Luke's instruction that they otherwise never would have tolerated. Or perhaps both Yoda and Obi-wan had utterly lost their minds during their years in exile.   
  
Once his son recovered from the shock of opening his mind completely, of leaving himself vulnerable to someone (someone angry and reckless and thoughtless and stupid), right down to his foundations (not a single thing kept protected, as if it had never occurred to him it was dangerous), Vader was going to train him night and day. He would correct his old master's mistakes.  
  
He felt a vicious curl of satisfaction. After everything Obi-wan had done to keep Vader from his son, it was he who would complete Luke's training.   
  
As terrible as the day had been, that was a small kernel of reassurance Vader could hold close. His son had spoken truly; Luke would never stand at his master's side. Even if his son turned, the emperor would never see Luke kneel before him. Having felt what his son had felt, it was an impossibility. Luke was his, and would remain his. No clever words or schemes could overcome the firsthand knowledge Luke had of the emperor's true self.  
  
Vader's thoughts turned black and dangerous. It was a pity his master cared about nothing but power. He would have found great joy in destroying someone his master loved. He would have kept them alive, sent them to the emperor gradually, in pieces. Limb by limb.  
  
Unfortunately Vader could only serve him a fraction of the betrayal the emperor had wrought upon Vader. He could not make the emperor scream the name of the one he loved in despair. All he could do was destroy every scrap of power his master had ever possessed, leaving him broken and defeated until Vader finally ground Palpatine's life out under his heel.   
  
Vader would tear his master's empire from him and hand it to his son like a gleaming jewel. For a moment he longed for the emperor to remain alive just long enough to watch that happen. Amidala's son, the son his master had deliberately tried to murder, ruling Palpatine's empire. The thought was like the remembered taste of ripe fruit in his mouth. Putting Luke on the throne wouldn't cause his master close to the amount of pain he deserved, but it was closer than anything else Vader could think of.  
  
Everything his master had told him, had promised him, was a lie. Palpatine had never intended to help him save Padme. He'd thought her something to be used, and discarded. As if she was _worthless_.  
  
Luke made a soft sound, drawing his attention. It was only then that he noticed his anger had started a vibration in the surrounding room. Items on the shelves were starting to rattle.  
  
Vader gritted his teeth and did his best to pack away his rage for a better time. If he couldn't, he would have to leave, for Luke's sake. His son needed rest to recover.  
  
Vader very much did not want to leave.  
  
"Father," Luke sighed softly.  
  
He looked down in surprise. Luke was squinting up at him. Vader winced in self-recrimination.  
  
"What happened?" Luke frowned, blinking as if not fully awake.   
  
"You have overtaxed yourself." Vader said. He hesitated, then admitted regretfully, "and I was careless." _And thoughtless. __And stupid_ , he thought privately.  
  
"Oh," Luke said blearily. Vader could feel it more clearly now that he was awake; Luke was unharmed, just painfully exhausted.  
  
"Rest, my son," Vader urged. "There is nothing that needs your attention." He brushed over his son's presence gently, reassuringly.  
  
Luke's mind warmed and brightened.   
  
Given the way his suit was constructed and anchored to him, Vader could never entirely relax. However, for reasons he did not want to examine, the presence of his son's affection drew as much tension from his shoulders as he suspected was possible.  
  
A smile flickered briefly across his son's face, and Luke relaxed into the bed. His breath came soft and even, his mind starting to drift peacefully.  
  
A moment later Luke tensed, his eyes snapping open. "The kill switch."  
  
"What?" Vader said unhappily. His son needed sleep, not conversation.  
  
To his displeasure, Luke tried to push himself up on one elbow. Vader put his hand on his son's shoulder, meaning to press him back into the bed. Luke locked his hand around Vader's wrist immediately, crackling with apprehension. His words came out in a rush.  
  
"The man I questioned told me. The assassin knew about the kill switch in your neck. He brought something with him to enable it. He only changed his mind when he found out you were in bacta."

Dispite his son's obvious concern, Vader first impulse was to be dismissive.

"Then he was a fool," Vader scoffed. "I would have survived, as I did before." Then Vader recalled the sensation of smothering on the recovery couch in his medical chamber as the inquisitor watched. It had been a clever move. _Most likely,_ he amended. _Most likely, I would have survived._  
  
"Before?" Luke stared at him, apparently startled out of his train of thought. He blinked, and then shook his head, as if deciding to let something go.  
  
"Anyway, how did he find out about it? You said no one else knew."  
  
Vader drew back, folding his arms in thought.  
  
"It is unlikely the emperor is behind it; He would not have wasted such an opportunity. He would hold the knowledge back, to act when he could be assured I would be too distracted to use the Force to overcome the effect." If the emperor had sent the inquisitor, it must have been done indirectly. A test then, not a murder attempt.

Something uncoiled in his chest. He would not stoop to calling it relief; However, this outcome was vastly preferable to the alternative.  
  
"I am, apparently, still too useful for him to eliminate," Vader said with dry amusement.  
  
Luke's eyes snapped up. Vader caught a confusing twinge of guilt from him, before he clumsily tried to hide it. His control was glaringly threadbare. Vader would have normally pressed to find the cause of Luke's feelings; However, given the state of his son, Vader didn't dare.   
  
Vader put his hand back on Luke's shoulder. He was too pale; He looked alarmingly fragile. His son needed sleep so badly his presence in the Force ached.  
  
"You have done well, my son" Vader said. He pressed against Luke's shoulder, a silent command that he lie down. "Now you must sleep, and recover. I will investigate where the inquisitor obtained his information myself."   
  
Luke frowned, laying back reluctantly. He was very much Anakin Skywalker's son, and did not take commands well.   
  
"I can help," he said stubbornly.  
  
"And what help will you be if you permanently damage yourself?" Vader asked bluntly.  
  
Luke looked uneasy. "Could that happen?"  
  
"It will not happen if you are sensible," Vader said sharply.  
  
Luke gave him a brief, suspicious look before settling back. He gave Vader a slight smile. "Sensible really isn't my strong suit," he said lightly.  
  
An unexpected upwelling of emotion made Anakin reach out impulsively to rest his hand on his son's head. It had been easy to do earlier, when Luke was asleep. Now Anakin faltered. He brushed his fingertips lightly against Luke's pillow; It was as close as he could come.  
  
"Unsurprising. You are _my_ son," he said, not without amusement.   
  



	8. Chapter 8

"Is everyone clear, then?" Luke asked him, rolling his shoulders.

"Everything in the hangar bay is at our disposal," Vader said, activating his lightsaber and taking a vicious swing at his son's head.

Luke managed to get his lightsaber up in time to block him, the blades close enough to his face for the light to reflect in his eyes.

"Thanks for the 'ok begin'," Luke said dryly, his voice strained with effort. He suddenly leaned back, letting Vader bat his lightsaber aside and ducking smoothly under his strike.

"You will not receive such a warning in battle, young one," Vader took a step forward and attempted to slice across Luke's torso, "so you will not receive it from me." 

Luke danced out of the way, and as Vader's lightsaber swung out to the left with the failed sweep, he darted in and managed a hit on Vader's shoulder. They had both dialed down the power enough for safety, but not low enough that the pain of a hit wasn't motivating. Vader hissed in reaction. He pivoted with a flicker of anger and slammed his lightsaber against his son's, and then again, beating down on Luke's block.

"Your stance is too wide," Vader said, leaning in. He'd taught Luke a few basic forms. Nothing more than a framework of what he should learn- of what Yoda and Obi-wan should have taught him -but it was enough for Luke to make it through a battle, if he was careful.

Luke wasn't being careful. He was being sloppy. 

Vader put more weight against Luke's block, trying to drive him to his knees. Trying to motivate him to think about what he should be doing.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Luke ground out through his teeth, "but you're seven feet tall." His arm was shaking a little under the onslaught. "This isn't as easy as it looks."

He managed to tilt his lightsaber in a way that let him slide out from under Vader's blade. He backed away, and Vader followed.

"And here I thought you were a _Jedi_ ," Vader said scornfully, the word sour in his mouth. "Not some worthless Corellian smuggler who found an old lightsaber in a garbage heap. Use the Force."

Luke narrowed his eyes. He'd undoubtedly recognized the slight toward his friend; That spice-hauling fool besotted with the ever-aggravating Organa.

"If you insist," Luke said with a flicker of a smile.

Vader received a split-second of warning, and just managed to turn his head in time to see a damaged hyperdrive casing sailing across the deck, right at him.

He scrambled back, giving it a quick shove so it went sideways into the wall instead of rolling over him. Vader felt another twinge through the Force and whirled to block Luke's lightsaber with his own, then pushed forward, shoving him back. 

His son gave way with ease, moving nimbly, circling him. Luke was faster than he was. 

Vader yanked at a deck plate underneath his son, causing him to stumble. Vader brought his lightsaber down heavily, before Luke had completely caught himself, pounding blows down at him, hoping to distract his son from realizing his own speed.

Luke's stance was still too wide, taking the weight of Vader's strikes with his body instead of the Force.

Vader narrowed his eyes. _He WILL learn,_ Vader thought viciously. He deliberately pivoted, dropping his lightsaber arm. Luke, braced to push back against another heavy blow, lurched forward, off balance. His position left his left leg wide open and Vader brought his blade down in one swift strike, dealing him a brutal blow just above the knee.

Luke cried out, his leg buckling under him. Momentarily defenseless. 

Vader slashed out in a way that, in a real fight, would have cleaved Luke's head from his shoulders. At the last second Luke looked up at him with a wide-eyed flash of real fear and Vader stopped himself mid-strike with a thrill of alarm. Even dialed down to a low level, a lightsaber blow to the neck could have been a serious injury. If Luke had moved his head Vader could have accidentally crushed his throat with the force of the blow.

Vader froze in startled dismay at the picture that brought up in his mind. He didn't see his wife's face, clutching her throat and pleading with him, he didn't-

Luke took the opportunity to force-throw a tool case at Vader's back.

Vader stumbled forward with a startled sound and Luke slashed at his foot. Vader shoved Luke away from him with the Force, his son sliding across the deck with a somewhat comically surprised expression. Vader took at step toward him, wincing at the minor damage to the servos in his ankle. He whirled just in time to keep a spanner from denting his helmet. 

When he turned back around, Luke was gone.

Vader straightened, his lightsaber held ready. He glanced around warily, stretching out into the Force, trying to pinpoint Luke's location. Luke had wisely closed down the connection between them.

Vader started a search of the hangar bay. The damage to his ankle was irritating, but easy enough to compensate for. 

After a moment, he realized the bay was completely silent save for the noise from his respirator. His own breathing echoed back at him strangely.

In a real battle he could have idled the respirator for a little while, long enough to keep himself from giving away his position. Given the parameters of the duel, however, it would be counterproductive to do so now. Not only did it cause him some strain, but this was supposed to be a learning experience for his son. Which would not be had if they hid from each other and avoided fighting. Which was why Luke was being foolish.

Vader stopped in his tracks. "Luke," he said, irritated. "Enough. This is a duel, not a game."

His words cut through the air. There was no response. Vader strained to listen, but aside from the hiss of his breathing, there was nothing.

Suddenly uneasy, Vader stretched out toward his son in the Force. His son was near, that much Vader could tell, but there was not a single sound that came from anyone but himself. Perhaps Luke had left the hangar bay? 

Vader felt a sudden chill. He pushed out harder into the Force, trying to get a better sense of his son's location. Was he moving further away? Across the ship towards one of the secondary hangar bays, perhaps, with its own hyperdrive-equipped shuttles?

He wouldn't do that, Vader thought with certainty, something like panic starting to creep up his spine. He started to move quickly across the hangar, eyes searching.

"Luke?" 

Luke had been given more than ample opportunity to betray him, and refused every time. His son had chosen him over his master, surely he wouldn't, not after everything-

Luke wouldn't try to _(escape)_ leave now. Luke wouldn't abandon him.

Vader flashed suddenly on that brief expression of fear in Luke's eyes as Vader had pulled his strike and saved Luke's throat. Vader gritted his teeth.

_Perhaps he misunderstood?_

Vader's heart clenched. He leaped onto the roof of the nearest shuttle. Exposing himself to attack. Gaining a better view of the deck.

_"Luke?"_ Panic moved up his spine and grabbed onto his throat.

Luke exploded into the Force from behind formidable shields. Vader spun around just as Luke skidded into sight from behind the blocky wing of a TIE fighter. Luke had been behind him, trying to sneak up and attack. His hand was out, as though Vader needed to be calmed.

"I'm here," he said, the sense of him in the Force feeling urgent and regretful. "I didn't go anywhere." 

Vader grabbed onto his son through the Force in a quick, reflexive action. Too tightly; He relaxed his grip almost immediately. Vader was not expecting his son to reach back, warm and fiercely reassuring.

Vader's relief was foolish, he told himself, given that he'd never been concerned. It was his son who was radiating concern. 

Feeling that particular emotion directed at him was, for some reason, extremely comforting.

"Fortunately for you," he replied briskly, pushing aside a swell of pleased possessiveness. "You need the practice." On the last word, he threw his lightsaber at his son's face.

Luke didn't duck; He ignited his lightsaber and in one smooth movement he parried Vader's blade, sending it skittering across the deck. It was both unexpected and impressive. Vader hastily called his lightsaber back to his hand, and was startled to see Luke smile. Something oddly like relief trailed behind his son in the Force, and it had nothing to do with their duel.

Then, to Vader's surprise, Luke lifted a hand and the shuttle Vader was standing on almost jerked out from underneath him, sliding across the deck toward his son with an unpleasant scraping sound. Without a word, Luke charged toward him, eyes sparkling. 

Vader bent his knees slightly and hefted his lightsaber, pleased by his son's quick thinking. He was doing quite well. 

Vader prepared to jump down as Luke approached, meaning to add the weight of his fall to his downswing. Luke needed to stop trying to block with only the strength in his arms and legs.

He did not expect Luke to take a flying leap up, trying to join him on the roof of the shuttle.

Vader's heart recoiled, igniting in wounded fury. He slashed out at his son's legs in midair with punishing force. The blow was strong enough to change Luke's trajectory; He slammed into the edge of the roof of the shuttle with a cry, and fell off it, landing on the deck with a thud.

"Fool," Vader snarled. He clenched his fists, suddenly shaking in what he wished was rage. Rage would have made him feel strong. He just felt sick.

Luke was cursing and clutching at what were no-doubt painful lightsaber burns on his shins. 

"You think I would wait for you to land to attack?!" Vader demanded, jumping down and switching off his lightsaber.

Luke shoved himself up on one elbow with a sour expression that was terrifyingly familiar. Anakin had worn it often enough, anytime anyone tried to teach him a lesson he didn't particularly think he should have to learn.

Somewhere, Obi-wan was laughing at him.

Rattled, Vader went down on one knee and grabbed his son by the arm.

"Never do that," he said tightly.

Luke opened his mouth to say something, something sarcastic that Anakin would have said, and something split in Vader's heart at what he was suddenly terrified might lay in his son's future. 

Vader jerked Luke's arm roughly, pulling him closer. 

"Never. Do. That." His voice through the vocoder was menacing. 

Obi-wan had done a great deal to try to drive lessons into his head, but he'd never deliberately tried to frighten him. Perhaps that would have worked, because Luke's eyes went wide, all his stubborn resistance falling away. He reached for Vader in the Force and recoiled a little at whatever he found.

Luke looked down with crackling shock, and Vader followed his eyes to the damaged section of his boot that hid the malfunctioning servo in his ankle. When Luke looked up, he was wearing an expression Vader didn't understand. Vader could feel a fierce swell of emotion rising from him. Protectiveness? It didn't quite make sense, and he wasn't sure.

Luke put his hand on Vader's arm, distracting him.

"I won't, father," Luke's voice was quiet. "I'll remember."

Vader wasn't expecting it, but the Force softly whispered _truth_ in his ear. If Vader could have let out a breath in relief, he would have. He pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand. Luke grabbed it and used it to pull himself up.

"I believe we are done for today," Vader said, watching his son brush himself off. 

Luke's head snapped up. "Done?" he frowned. "Aren't you going to show me how to do it?"

Vader stared at him uncertainly. Surely he didn't mean for Vader to show Luke how to cut off the legs of someone abysmally stupid enough to try to jump up to fight him. 

Luke blinked at his obvious hesitation. "How to block using the Force," he prompted.

_Ah_. Vader felt a flush of relief. _Of course._

He looked down at his son. Very far down, given Luke's height. "Not from this angle," he said thoughtfully. Vader glanced around. "Here," he said, walking toward a shipping container. Luke followed, radiating curiosity.

Vader gestured. "Get up on the container. Pretend to be tall."

Luke's eyebrows shot up. "Hey! I'm not-" _that short._

He was that short. Luke's didn't finish the sentence, possibly because it was so obviously a lie that it wasn't worth it.

Amused, Vader repeated the 'get up there' gesture. Grumbling, his son complied. 

"Well, this is a little humiliating," Luke said, pushing himself to his feet. Standing on the crate his son was taller than him, but not by all that much.

Anakin tilted his head, feeling a rush of fondness. "Your mother never let her short stature stop her. Either use it to your advantage or get used to losing battles."

Luke's eyes went wide, and Anakin realized what he'd just said.

He did not, as a rule, talk about Luke's mother. After learning that the emperor...

His rage was bitter and dark, and far too close. He did not talk about Luke's mother. 

He might have regretted speaking, if Luke's reaction hadn't been so obvious. Seeing his son light up at the merest mention of his mother did something strange and soothing to Anakin's heart.

"Father," Luke said hesitantly. The longing in his voice, in his presence, was clear. He wanted to hear about her. He wanted to hear his father talk about her.

Anakin's heart suddenly felt too large, too soft, and he didn't know what to do with it.

"Not yet," he said, the words coming out of him without thought. He half dreaded seeing disappointment bloom on his son's face, but it didn't come. Luke's feelings were open to him, and Anakin could sense his son latching on to the idea that 'not yet' was very far from 'never'.

Anakin felt strange, almost like he was on the edge of understanding something.

_Not yet,_ he thought to his son. He felt a little shiver. _Soon._

Luke smiled, hope lighting in his eyes.

Anakin wondered; If he took his helmet off right then, what color would his own eyes be? If his son had taken after his mother in looks, the thought wouldn't have occurred to him, but Luke looked like he had when he was that age. It felt right that their eyes should be the same. Either Luke should fall to the dark side, and they would both have yellow. Or he wouldn't, and Luke's would remain blue, and Anakin-

He stared at the wall for a moment. Swiftly and silently, Vader packed away his thoughts and the feelings that came with them. He carefully tucked them away, in a safe place. His master would never know. No one would.

Luke was looking at him expectantly, waiting for his instruction to continue. His son hadn't seen...

There was nothing for his son to see.

Vader lowered defenses he hadn't realized he'd erected. Luke would need to be able to sense what he was doing, if he was going to learn anything.

"Now, watch how I use the Force," Vader said, igniting his lightsaber. "Attack me."

Luke narrowed his eyes slightly, and Vader felt his son open himself to the Force, focusing on him. His son brought his lightsaber down swiftly, throwing his body weight into the downstroke.

On a whim, instead of reaching for the dark, Vader grasped onto that strange, wild power his son had first called forth months ago. It felt right. He pulled it close, letting it soak into his skin, his bones, his nerves, all the varied parts and mechanics that kept him alive. He was suddenly living and functioning inside the Force, alongside it, between it. He breathed around it and with it, like he'd been gilded in gold, inside and out.

His son's lightsaber hit Vader's block like he had just tried to beat his way through a blast door using a stick. Vader was utterly immovable; Luke had essentially tried to break his way through the Force itself with a bit of light and an optimistic attitude.

Luke stepped back, tilting his head. Vader could feel him poking lightly at his presence here and there, working out exactly how Vader's manipulation of the Force was affecting his body. After a moment, Vader felt Luke start to mimic what he'd done.

Vader watched him weave power through his physical form with a certain amount of pride. Luke still instinctively reached for the light more often than not, but his power was such that Vader almost didn't mind watching him do it. If Palpatine wasn't so dangerous Vader might not have argued with his son about it at all. 

Vader pushed the thought aside. 

Once he was reasonably sure his son grasped the concept, he let the power fade out from under his skin. Luke hopped down off the crate, looking thoughtful. 

When Vader struck out at his son again, Luke blocked him with almost effortless finality. Vader's blow landed against the solid framework of the Force Luke had built inside himself to augment his physical strength. It was neatly done.

Vader felt a curl of pure satisfaction. 

"Acceptable," he said, drawing back.

Luke took a step to one side, twirling his lightsaber idly. It was a terrible habit Obi-wan had scolded Anakin for many times.

"What happens if we both do it at once?" Luke asked. "You let go of the Force right before you hit me. What happens if we hit each other with the Force at the same time?"

"The same thing that happens if I use the Force to push you away, and you push back." Vader lifted a hand, palm out, drawing the Force close.

Luke caught on to what he was proposing almost immediately. His son lifted his hand in return, stepping forward until their palms were only a few inches apart. Luke took a long, slow breath, settling into a calm that was very familiar. 

That was not acceptable, no matter how powerful Luke was. 

Before he could draw the light close, Vader gave his son a short, sharp shove through the Force. Luke stumbled back, startled.

"No," Vader scolded. "This skill is something the emperor may want to see for himself. You can't reach for the light in front of him, if he is to believe you are turning. "

Luke folded his arms. "I'm hoping we won't get to a point where I have to make him believe anything."

Vader made a frustrated sound. "I won't compromise your safety for your idiotic sensibilities. If you insist on rejecting the dark side, you will practice the skills you'll need to use, in the way you'll need to use them."

Luke looked unhappy, but he stopped reaching for the light, so Vader told himself he didn't care. 

After a moment, the wild, not-light, not-dark energy answered his son's call, blooming forth with thunderous power. His son nodded at him.

Vader lashed out, trying to slam Luke back against the wall with the Force. Luke caught his power, and held steady against him. Vader felt a brief, electric thrill at being able to directly feel just how strong his son was.

For a moment their power clashed and strained. Luke moved little and Vader not at all; To an average observer Vader supposed it would look as though they were merely standing there. Any fool with half an ounce of talent in the Force would know better. 

Around them and through them, in the only place that mattered, the Force roared in battle against itself. The air was thick and heavy with power.

Vader set himself, and shoved harder, trying to break his way through Luke's block. His son twitched and stumbled back a step before he scrambled up the strength to hold Vader off. 

Vader couldn't hold back his amusement. "Your focus," he said, "still needs work."

Luke looked up at him with a spark of challenge in his eye. Vader could feel him reorganizing his strategy, and was surprised at his own delighted anticipation.

Something shifted in the Force, like some dark, far-away creature had turned over in its sleep. Vader felt a chill and frowned, his attention briefly distracted from his son.

Luke gritted his teeth and struck out at Vader like he was trying to fly a Star Destroyer through a group of light cruisers. A silent 'get out of my way' spoken in crushed hull plating.

He barely had time to think, _I should have reached for the dark._

Luke drove him back a step. Vader tried to take his flash of outrage at being briefly overpowered and turn it into anger, into fuel. But this aspect of the Force didn't want it. The anger wouldn't light. 

Luke grinned at him, looking rather broadly pleased with himself.

Vader should have found it irritating. However, it had been so long since the last time he'd done something like this and genuinely hadn't known the outcome, he couldn't help but enjoy the novelty. If he'd been using the dark he would have had an advantage, years of skill in whetting hate into swords. But this aspect of the Force was new, exciting and unknown.

Their power collided in a thrill of refreshing competitiveness that was probably inappropriate, given the danger involved in battling at such a level. There was a slight reverberation through the Force at the moment of impact; The ringing sound of two shields crashing together, echoing across a battlefield.

In response, something living shifted in the Force a good bit more definitively than it had a few moments ago. The dark, far-away thing that had been turning in its sleep lifted its head up and frowned at them. 

"Enough!" Vader snapped, releasing the Force like it had burned him. Luke was not as quick, and Vader found himself pushed back several steps. He caught himself on the nearby shuttle, his mind racing. His master was too attuned to him.

"What," Luke's eyes were wide, "what was-"

His son knew very well whose attention they'd just caught. He wanted Vader to tell him he was wrong.

"The emperor," Vader said, because wishful lies were far worse than terrible truths. "He felt that." 

Vader blocked his son off, keeping him from sensing anything. He started building walls, higher than the stars and stronger than the relentless, grinding force of entropy itself. The emperor could not reach his son. He could, however, reach Vader, if he had a mind to. That made Vader himself the emperor's greatest weapon against Luke, and Vader locked himself down in a way that made him as difficult a weapon to use as possible.

If his master hurt him, it would hurt Luke. It might even be possible for the emperor to kill Luke through him, if he got creative enough. Vader would not let that happen.

He braced himself for the worst, but all Vader felt was the faintest icy prickle of his master's attention. The emperor gave him a few curious taps, testing his shields, and then drew back, radiating amusement.

Vader waited suspiciously, but when no other reaction came, he allowed himself to relax a little.

"It's all right," Vader said. He narrowed his eyes. _For now._

Luke had stepped close in concern. Vader risked lowering his guard and found Luke half wrapped around his presence in the Force, warm and fiercely protective.

At that moment his master was, in all probability, assuming that Vader had just made significant progress toward turning his son to the dark side. That Vader had goaded his son into yielding to his anger, and that the clash of power the emperor had felt was the battle that had ensued between them. The emperor thought the road to Luke's destruction led alongside his hatred toward Vader; So any victory Vader gained over his son with the dark side was also a defeat, driving Luke away.

He would no doubt be messaging Vader shortly, to gloat. 

Vader reached out for his son's presence, grasping briefly at the warmth and light of his son's _(love)_ affection. He felt a flare of possessiveness. His master knew nothing of his son, of what found-family meant. 

"He felt our conflict. He'll be calling to receive a report about your progress." Vader said. He looked down at Luke's disheveled hair and singed clothing. His burns were undoubtedly starting to sting. "You should report to medical, I'll deal with him." 

Vader had not meant to reassure his son- it was never wise to let your guard down with the emperor no matter how confident you were of surviving the encounter- but he was surprised at how deeply his neutral statement troubled Luke. The boy fairly recoiled in dismay.

"I should have been more careful," Luke said, distressed.

"Yes," Vader said bluntly. "As should I. But if I gave the emperor no reason to scrutinize your progress he would simply invent one."

Luke's expression reflected the anxiety he was leaking into the Force. "Can't you just...I don't know, have him leave a message?"

Vader gave him an incredulous look he couldn't see. "Only if you'd like him to suspect something."

"He'll ask about the construction delays, we've been here two weeks, you can't keep making excuses and Leia needs more time-"

"The Princess," Vader said tartly, "will accept what she is given. She is not necessary for us to succeed; If she fails us, then when the time comes her pathetic rebellion will have earned the destruction they will receive."

"You mean my pathetic rebellion," Luke shot back irritably, without thinking.

Vader tilted his head, amused. He watched his son realize what he'd just called his allies.

"I mean-" he started, flustered.

"Your pathetic rebellion," Vader said over him, accepting his flub as truth with no small pleasure, "Has much to thank me for already. Particularly given that I am about to inform the emperor of the thieves at Sienar that I discovered interfering with the steady operation of our supply chain."

Luke blinked at him, and then almost looked sheepish. "Oh. Right, then."

Vader's voice softened as much as the vocoder was able. "Things are well enough in hand. Now is not the time to take risks with the emperor's suspicions." He hesitated, eyeing his son. "He isn't going to attempt to kill me today, Luke."

Luke blinked, and went through several emotions extremely rapidly before setting on something surprising; Guilt.

Vader felt a chill. 

"I know," Luke muttered. Deception crackled through the air between them for half a moment before his son hastily shut Vader away. Luke was too late; Vader picked up that both the lie and the guilt were centered on his master.

He had taken so much care in assuring his son never spent a moment alone with the emperor, Vader thought with rising fury. And yet, despite all his watchful protection, Palpatine had still managed to get to his son. Something had passed between them, somehow, right under his nose. His master had set a seed of poison in Luke's ear and it was growing before Vader's eyes.

"You have spoken to the emperor," Vader said icily. "Don't think you can deceive me."

Luke looked up at him with wide eyes that were pathetically easy to read.

"What did he say to you?" Vader snarled.

"Nothing!" The Force shifted uneasily; It was almost a lie.

Vader simmered in outrage, and Luke felt it; His son relented reluctantly, guilt and uncertainty hovering in the air between them.

"I thought about something, let him feel it, and he believed me, that's all," Luke shifted, uncomfortable. 

A thousand terrifying possibilities unfolded in Vader's mind, like the first welling of blood out of a mortal wound. His master could take the smallest weakness in an enemy's defenses and chip away at it until it was a crack that could cleave them in half when struck by a single blow. 

It was what he'd done to Anakin.

"What did you tell him," Vader said flatly, numb with dread.

Luke looked at him with a curiously blank expression. "That he'd never turn me to the dark side. But you could."

Confusion swirled with relief. Was that all? It was not so different from the story Vader had insisted would be most effective in convincing his master that Luke should remain onboard the Executor with him. Hardly cause for his son's feeling of guilt or deception.

Then, an unpleasant idea clenched icy fingers around his spine. His son was capable of subterfuge but blunt by nature; In all probability he had shared his feelings in precisely those clear terms.

"The emperor would sense a lie so blatant," He said cautiously, circling panic but not stepping into it.

Luke stared at him wordlessly.

_It wasn't a lie._

The stretching moment of silence between them rose in volume until the truth was shouting itself into Vader's face. Vader felt a curious, predatory shiver of emotion he could not name. Electric understanding. Possessive triumph. 

Luke said nothing, but his feelings were clear; He genuinely believed Vader could turn him. Vader's tale to his master excusing Luke's presence need not be a deception. He had been wrong to doubt; Luke's experience with the dark side through the emperor did not have to be the end of his potential as a Sith. Luke's objections were immaterial and could be swept aside. He was loyal to Vader, and Vader could teach his son true power. Together they would be invincible-

He suddenly thought of Luke with yellow eyes, and something he had packed tightly away did not give a slight twinge, because it did not exist.

"Please don't," Luke said, his tone of voice startling Vader. It was soft, it was personal. As though this wasn't a fundamental difference in philosophy, the dark side versus the light side, only a family disagreement between them.

"What?"

"You could turn me, maybe," Luke said, drawing the last word out slowly. He looked up at Vader. "But I didn't say it wouldn't cost you something to do it. You might be able to make me turn to the dark side, father, but I wouldn't be your son at the end of it." Luke shrugged. "I'd just be another Sith who hates you."

"Your hatred does not-" _matter to me_ , he meant to say, but the words caught, and he went silent. It mattered. It shouldn't; Regardless of his master's treachery in turning him, he was a Sith. Hatred was nothing more than fuel and by all rights he shouldn't care if Luke hated him, because then...

Then...

It mattered. _Of course_ it mattered.

"The dark side would make you strong, my son," he finished weakly.

"I'm already strong," Luke replied, clear-eyed and calm.

His son didn't know how to do this properly, Vader thought, his mind feeling muddled and strange. He was supposed to know Vader was irredeemable, he was supposed to know it wouldn't matter to Vader if Luke lived or died so long as his service helped Vader become stronger. He was supposed to know every Sith was a monster.

Regardless of their other failings, Vader was absolutely certain Obi-wan and Yoda would have taught him that.

Luke was standing there like he could force reality to be different just by insisting it should be. Like he could be the rock the unfairness of the universe broke itself upon.

Luke was so much like his mother, Vader's heart ached with it. 

He reached out and put a hand on his son's shoulder. "I know you are," Anakin said softly.

Luke tilted his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You know I'm going to wait to go to medical until you're finished talking to the emperor, right?"

Vader did know that, though in this case he didn't like it much. It was one thing Luke stubbornly insisted on; Any time Vader had to speak with his master Luke was always there to meet him afterwards. Trying to inconspicuously check him over while doing a very poor job of concealing his obvious concern. There was something about the ritual that was...gratifying. It offset some of Vader's current displeasure at Luke remaining injured longer than necessary.

Vader pointed at him sternly."You will wait in the training room, you will not use the Force, and you will report to medical directly afterward."

Luke smiled like he'd won something. Like the entire training session had been called in his favor, and he'd won the day. 

Strangely, Vader didn't mind.


	9. Chapter 9

  
  


Luke thought he might as well make use of the training room while he was waiting there. He wasn't expecting his father's call with the emperor to be so short; He'd barely gotten started with the targeting droids when Vader's mental shields fell, and his father's feelings practically exploded into the Force.

Luke winced and almost dropped his lightsaber.

His father exited the hologram room like someone had opened a door on a raging fire, flames and smoke billowing out into the hall and crawling along the ceiling, longing for destruction and death. Luke felt it as clearly as if he'd been standing two feet away.

Vader had spoken to the emperor a handful of times since Luke's first, terrible encounter with him. His father always walked away from those meetings nearly wild with rage.

After learning the truth of what his master had done, Vader hated the emperor with a strength Luke had never felt in anyone, ever. Part of the reason Luke liked to be close by when the emperor called was Luke's suspicion that his father's self-control might snap one day, and he'd try to kill Palpatine on the spot. Luke didn't want to be far if there was a fight. Just in case.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason he wanted to be nearby. Hate was the coin the Sith traded their souls for. Luke wanted to make sure his father didn't give away so much he lost himself completely.

 _Father?_ Luke sent, concerned.

Vader's attention snapped his way. The fire banked almost instantly, pulling away from the walls and the ceiling, setting down to a roaring core of fury under his father's skin. He was still angry enough to tear the hallway apart, but he was in control of himself enough not to do it by accident.

 _Go to medical._ His father's thoughts were clipped and brusque. _I will speak to you...afterwards._

Luke took a moment to give the sense of his father in the Force a careful once-over. Vader's mental voice was by no means calm, but the anger behind it was tightly contained. Luke couldn't feel any pain coming from him, either; The emperor hadn't physically hurt him. 

Luke caught the briefest flicker of warmth from his father in the Force; Vader knew what Luke was doing. He made a good show of impatience over Luke's concern for his safety, but not all that good. Luke sensed his true feelings, how awkwardly pleased he was, before Vader quashed them and told himself it was irritation. 

Luke didn't know how to fix his father's self-destructive tendencies, or even if that was something that could be fixed. But he could show he cared about his father's well-being. It wasn't much, but he thought maybe it helped.

 _All right_ , Luke sent, relaxing a little. _I'll see you after._

Luke had been there long enough to understand what Vader wasn't saying; His father was about to do some seriously disturbing dark-side-fueled Sith meditation over whatever-it-was the emperor had said to him. He wanted Luke both distant and distracted while he was doing it. Main medical was halfway across the ship.

Vader had been very careful exposing Luke to his worst side, lately. Ever since he'd pushed Luke too hard trying to pull memories out of him he didn't have, his father had been almost paranoid about restraining himself around Luke when he was angry. As if he wanted to keep the dark side as carefully leashed as he could manage whenever Luke was close. 

That was one of the reasons why Luke had pushed so hard to up the intensity of their sparring sessions into more loosely-defined duels. When things started moving against the emperor, Palpatine wasn't going to pull any punches. It wouldn't do Luke any good to get used to fighting someone trying to be gentle with him.

It had cost him some stinging burns and a couple of embarrassing moments, but it had worked, more or less. Luke was sure there had been at least a moment or two when his father had been going almost all-out against him.

Idly, he rubbed at his throat. At least one moment, definitely. As for the other...

Luke looked down at his shins, at the two burn marks that marked his father's attack. It had been a silly, flashy move to try to jump up on the roof of the shuttle, but nothing warranting such a strong reaction. Vader's feelings of horror had come completely out of the blue. More worryingly, he'd been doing that 'looking-past-him' thing Luke had noticed his father did when his mind started to eat itself with terrible thoughts.

Vader had never told him how he'd ended up in that life support suit. Luke had a pretty good idea which move he'd been trying to do when it happened.

He was going to ask Obi-wan, the next time he saw him, who had done it. He had a pretty good idea of the answer to that question too, but something told him that it was important to hear Obi-wan say it. Luke suspected it was going to be one hell of a conversation, but he wasn't going to be able to just set the question aside.

Luke sighed, wondering when his life had become so...emotionally complicated. On Tatooine people said the gods were dead, killed by the desert. Maybe Luke had accidentally pissed off one of their spirits during one of the times he'd been tearing through the canyons on his speeder.

Luke couldn't do much about it if he had, so he hooked his lightsaber to his belt and headed to medical. At least, to that general area. He was pretty sure it was somewhere on deck 8.

When he stepped outside of his father's wing, one of the stormtroopers guarding the doors left his post to follow him, moving as if to take a spot behind Luke's right shoulder. Luke stopped and frowned at him.

The stormtrooper saw his expression and shrugged. "We've been asked to escort you as needed around the ship, sir."

It was Queens. Luke could tell. The clones always felt a little different from regular troops. 

"So you don't get lost, sir," Queens said delicately. _Again,_ he didn't add.

It wasn't Luke's fault he could never remember where everything was. The ship was enormous.

Luke gave him a grin. "I just think the admiral doesn't want me wandering off and discovering more Imperial secrets."

The last time he'd gotten lost he'd ended up in the kitchen, gotten cornered by service droids, and pressed into service helping with lunch.

"...Yes, sir." Luke had a distinct feeling that beneath the helmet Queens' expression was as dry as his voice. 

One of the kitchen's ration distribution stations had been malfunctioning. Queens had been one of the troopers who'd dragged Luke out over the protests of several distressed droids, trailing parts and bits of reconstituted meat.

Luke nodded his head good-naturedly towards the open hallway. "Well, I'm headed to medical. You can't lead from behind, right?"

Queens stepped ahead of him with a slight air of caution and an 'of course, sir' that was more deferential than a Stormtrooper ever needed to be toward someone not in their line of command, much less a rebel soldier. It wasn't the first time someone had treated him like he had authority he didn't possess. Luke followed Queens through the mindlessly similar hallways, looking thoughtfully at the back of his helmet. 

Luke's black clothes were obviously not Imperial standard. His lightsaber was displayed openly at his belt. He wasn't wearing cuffs or surrounded by guards. No one said anything to him about any of it.

Luke didn't know if some kind of memo had gone out, but from the way everyone was treating Luke on the ship, he suspected he had been unofficially sorted into the same vague aspect of authority his father occupied. 

Darth Vader was essentially the supreme commander of the empire's military forces, but as far as actual rank he seemed to exist outside the military framework. Luke was now 'Not-ranked-but-not-to-be-argued-with-under-any-circumstances' Skywalker. Someone had even called him 'My Lord' once. 

Luke had wanted to give his X-Wing a once-over and Piett had been taking Luke to the hangar where he'd parked (which was a place he definitely had _tried_ to remember the location of) and a lieutenant had come up with a message. He'd popped off an earnestly polite "Admiral, My Lord" in greeting, and Luke had flinched like someone had just flicked sand in his face. 

He'd been ready to clench his teeth and seethe his way uncomfortably through the encounter, but to his surprise he didn't have to. The Admiral had bristled, grabbing the lieutenant's arm and leaning forward.

"It would be unwise to call Commander Skywalker 'My Lord' within earshot of Lord Vader."

The lieutenant's eyes had been huge. Piett was one of the most cool-headed men Luke had ever met in his life; When he got irritated it made an impact.

The reaction had been weirdly gratifying. Both that Piett had insisted on Luke's rank in the Alliance and that he'd done it correcting someone for accidentally giving Luke a Sith promotion.

It had been simply 'sir' from almost everyone onboard ever since. Sometimes 'Commander Skywalker, sir', though Luke noticed that people didn't like to bring up anything tying the Rebellion and Luke together while Vader was around. 

He and Queens walked for at least 15 minutes (and were, as far as Luke could tell, in the exact same place they'd been in 15 minutes ago), before Luke felt something dark and strange swelling in the Force and stopped dead in the middle of the hallway.

Luke had no idea exactly what his father's dark side meditation entailed, but it ached. From the outside it felt like an old pulled muscle that didn't want to heal; It just kept getting torn over and over in the same spot. Luke wanted to stretch and loosen up, but there was nothing to stretch. The ache was a mental wound, and it snagged at his awareness unpleasantly.

"Sir?" Queens was looking back at him, his voice mildly concerned. "We're nearly there."

Luke blinked and shook his head. He rolled his shoulders a little, wincing, but it didn't help, because it wasn't his shoulders that hurt.

"Are you all right? I can get one of the doctors-" The concern was getting more pronounced.

"No, it's fine." Luke rubbed briefly at his forehead. "I'm fine. Let's go."

There were both human doctors and droids in main medical. They pretty much all went for 'sir'. Luke tried to let the process of getting his burns seen to occupy his mind, but it didn't work all that well. 

It was difficult not to fixate on that maddening sense of old pain coming from his father. He wanted to pick at the feeling and kept having to force himself not to; The struggle was giving him a headache. Luke only realized how much his father's unpleasant meditation had distracted him when the doctor put a sensor circlet on his head. He started, reaching up, and the doctor in question caught his hand.

"Sir? Are you with us?" the doctor asked in a way that made Luke think he'd given off the impression that he wasn't.

"Yes, sorry," Luke said hastily. "I was distracted."

The doctor gave him a doubtful look. It looked like she'd set things up to give him a brain scan. Queens was hovering off to one side, helmet off, talking quietly into his suit communicator.

Luke tried, unsuccessfully, to recall the last thing the doctor had said to him. He had a sinking suspicion that he might have been poking irritably at the Force and not paying attention to what was going on around him for quite a while. Long enough for the doctor to get worried he might legitimately have something wrong with him.

He tried to shove his embarrassment aside, because Queens was talking to someone, and that needed to stop immediately.

"Queens," he said in a 'don't tell my father' tone of voice, "It's fine-"

He was apparently about 30 seconds too late, because he felt his father stir from his meditation, concern boiling to the surface.

 _Dammit_. Luke sighed. "You didn't have to call him."

Queens glanced up at him and gave him a stern 'you should know better' expression.

His father's alarmed attention focused on him with an intensity that left Luke feeling vaguely winded.

 _I'm okay_ , he sent, trying to reassure. 

He had the sense of being swiftly examined. 

_Remain there. I'm coming to you._

_No,_ "no, it's- " Luke was flustered enough to say the last part out loud, but stopped when his father abruptly shut him out. He let out a frustrated noise and looked at Queens in accusation.

"Great," Luke said flatly. "He's on his way here." Luke gave Queens a 'now look what you've done' gesture.

Queens wasn't looking at Luke; He was looking at the doctor, who had an uneasy look on her face.

Queens held a hand out reassuringly toward the doctor. "That part's normal," he said. "Force stuff."

"My father really is on his way. I can tell," Luke told her apologetically. "Sorry about that," he added, with an annoyed look at Queens. 

Queens looked entirely unrepentant. After he went to bed Luke was going to steal his helmet and swap it out for one that belonged to a trooper with a much smaller head.

His doctor retreated, but Luke saw her doing a lot of hustling around, very fast. Luke wasn't exactly in a private room; More like a private alcove. He was in one of the larger rooms in medical so there were quite a few of them, extending from the larger area like petals on a flower. Luke could see almost everything going on.

Vader was, predictably, more concerned than he needed to be when he arrived. Luke saw his doctor rush to meet him at the door, but she only managed to say a few words to Vader before Vader brushed her off. He reached out for Luke in the Force, and Luke let him.

Vader stopped in front of Luke, but he was looking at Queens. He folded his arms.

"What happened?"

His father's fears were suddenly chewing at Luke with little sharp teeth. Vader was thinking his master had somehow done something, that his anger after speaking with his master had hurt Luke, that he had been too hard on Luke during the training session, struck out too hard against him with the Force and damaged him...

They piled up, each one shoving at the others, fighting to be on top.

Before Queens could respond, Luke reached up and put his hand on his father's wrist. "Father, please." _I was just distracted._

His father's attention focused instantly, pressing at him to explain the reason for that.

Luke glanced at Queens, and elected not to speak out loud.

 _Your meditation hurts you_ , Luke sent. _I can feel it, hurting you._

His father was startled. Whatever he'd expected Luke to say, that hadn't been it. Luke felt the words of concern pluck at Vader's heart, playing a single, sweet note into the air. It sent something churning in his father's mind. Luke couldn't tell what the problem was, his father was keeping him at arm's length, but Vader was suddenly conflicted about something. 

Vader looked down at him for a thoughtful moment, as if deciding what he would say and what he wouldn't.

"Leave us," he said to Queens.

Queens quickly replaced his helmet and obliged. He didn't pause, just walked right out of medical. Luke was surprised by that, until his father turned to address the rest of the room and repeated himself in a way that was very obviously a threat.

" _Leave us_ ," His voice was icy.

Queen had excellent instincts, Luke realized unhappily. Everyone made for the door like their lives depended on it. 

Luke eyed his father. He was well aware of Vader's reputation, both in the Alliance and among his own men. Luke was fairly sure his father wouldn't kill someone in front of him, though. If Vader tried, his father would have to...Well. 

_He'd have to get through me first._

Luke's stomach clenched uneasily at the thought. He wouldn't just sit there and let it happen, though. He would kill an Imp himself if he had to- had killed hundreds of thousands of them on the Death Star, in fact- but he did it only when he had to. 

People died in battle. If Luke's enemies didn't die, then he and his friends would. Luke was as pragmatic about that as anyone else raised on a world like Tatooine. But everyone knew you didn't kill your allies; That kind of behavior just got you dead in the desert. Vader killing his own men on a whim wasn't battle. It was just murder. Worse, it was betrayal. 

Vader's mask slowly turned toward him. Something chilly descended into the air between them.

His father had heard that.

There was no point in pretending he hadn't, Luke decided. "Don't tell me you're surprised," Luke said, as if they'd both spoken out loud. His father had to know who he was by now.

A weight seemed to settle on his father's shoulders. A brief flash of dismay lit the space between them, like a crack of lightning across the sky. The conflict Luke sensed within him got considerably worse.

"No," his father said quietly. "But I had hoped...No, I'm not surprised." Anakin had emerged from the sand, but somehow it didn't feel all that great to see it. He put his hand on Luke's shoulder. "There is very little I would not do to protect you, my son. Remember that."

Luke's heart sank down somewhere near his toes. "What's happening?" Luke said slowly, carefully.

Vader's words were blunt. "It is as you have foreseen. The emperor is coming here. He will be arriving in a week."

Luke sat bolt upright with a thrill of alarm. "A week?!" He cursed. He would have to get a message to Leia immediately. She'd have to do what she could with the ships they had. "It was the delays, wasn't it? I knew-"

"No." Vader said definitively. "All traitors involved in the supply delays but one have been rounded up and will shortly be executed. The emperor was pleased the culprits were caught, but now that the impediments have been removed he expects the battle station to be operational by the time he arrives."

Luke's stomach lurched at the thought of innocent men sent to slaughter for his father's secrets. For Luke's secrets. His father had orchestrated the delays through various agents, and while he was sure Vader hadn't given all of them up, it didn't change that fact that whether they were aware of it or not, everyone about to die had been on their side. Luke was involved in this; It was his responsibility too.

"What do you mean, all but one?" Luke asked, his heart rising in hope. _Maybe we could_ -

"The emperor wishes their accomplice onboard the Death Star to be handled more...personally." Vader drew the last word out. "He will be dealt with publicly, on the Death Star itself. The emperor feels it will motivate the crew to increase their efforts." Vader felt flat and grim in the Force.

Luke made the connection and hissed in a breath. "He wants _you_ to kill him." 

Vader stared at him. He didn't have to say 'yes'. 

"His execution is to proceed immediately. It will be broadcast throughout the station." Vader said instead. "The emperor will be observing, and he has requested your attendance." His voice made it clear it was not a request.

The emperor not only wanted Vader to kill the man, he wanted Luke to watch.

That queasy feeling was back, much worse this time. _He'd have to get through me first._ Luke was not expecting his thoughts to come back to haunt him so quickly. 

"Father," Luke said slowly. "You can't kill your own agent."

He could. But he _shouldn't._

Vader's head snapped around, his hands curling into fists. "Shall I release him then, and doom us all? He would give us over to Palpatine in a second." He pointed forcefully at the deck. "This is the path we have chosen." He spoke like it was something he'd told himself many times before. Like he was reciting words from a prayer. "We must follow it through to the end." 

Luke felt a chill. "Is that how you got here?" He asked quietly.

All of a sudden he could see it, a whisper from the Force stamping the truth into his thoughts. Those words had rolled through his father's mind a hundred thousand times. After every betrayal, after every terrible deed, after every choice he made that brought him farther down the long, horrific road to the ruin of his soul. _This the path I have chosen. I must follow it through to the end._

Vader straightened in shock, almost flinching away from him. After a moment, his shoulders dropped. Luke sensed the anguish weighing him down, tugging at his wrists, trying to drive him into the floor.

He turned away from Luke, looking at the wall. Luke could feel his turmoil. Just faintly, he caught an echo of his thoughts. They were words Luke had felt his father think before, and it put Luke's heart in his throat.

_His idealism will be the thing that drives us apart in the end._

"... Come with me," his father said finally, turning to go. He moved like he was headed to his own execution, not someone else's.

Luke had a terrible feeling about this.

Gritting his teeth, he followed.

Admiral Piett was already waiting for them with a shuttle ready to take them to the Death Star. He was as ramrod-straight and composed as ever, but when his eyes passed over Luke's face, whatever he saw made his expression flicker. 

Piett didn't have the Force, but Luke was absolutely certain he also had a bad feeling about what they were about to do. 

The trip to the station felt like it took two minutes. When they arrived in the hangar bay there were lines of troopers and technicians already waiting for them, and at least a hundred officers. His father must have spoken to Commander Jerjerrod as soon as he'd told Luke to go to the medical bay. 

Luke tried not to feel managed, but he had been managed, so that was difficult.

The commander was waiting for them at a distance from the base of the shuttle ramp that looked deliberate. He was sweating and frightened. His reaction wasn't a surprise. 

Luke had gone with his father to the Death Star once before. The commander had seen him walking at his father's side, glanced down at the lightsaber on his hip, and immediately treated Luke as if he was some kind of important Imperial asset who had the emperor's authority behind him. His attitude had been so subservient and the commander's fear had been so blatant Luke had needed to tell himself repeatedly that he wasn't actually a traitor working for the Empire, he was just...on a mission. Kind of.

Luke had gotten too used to Admiral Piett's unflappable practicality. Piett had what he called 'a reasonable desire to please his commanding officer', but as far as Luke could figure, that meant 'I'm scared of him the correct amount at the right times'. Whatever nerves Piett had, they never affected his determination to be as fiercely efficient at his job as possible.

Commander Jerjerrod, on the other hand, went lightheaded with fear anytime Vader even turned his head in his direction. He hated the situation he'd been placed in with such a scrambling desperation Luke was half certain if he could have gotten away with it he would have blown up Vader's shuttle and figured out some way to pin the supply delays on his smoking corpse. He thought Luke's father was a nightmare, and he seemed to have folded Luke into that fear. 

The commander made Luke intensely uncomfortable.

Piett was walking at Vader's other side, a step behind him. As they approached, Luke caught a twinge of pity from the admiral and glanced over at him; He was looking at Commander Jerjerrod. Luke wondered suddenly if Piett had always been so steady-handed when faced with his father, or if he'd needed to learn to be that way.

Vader walked down the rows of troopers toward the commander with the easy confidence of a top predator strolling past meeker creatures. He did not pause for Jerjerrod, but continued on, forcing him to scurry along to keep up.

His father was as aware as Luke was of Jerjerrod's opinion of him. Vader didn't feel the slightest hint of pity.

"Lord Vader, I have arranged the broadcast station-wide as you commanded," the commander said hurriedly. "The emperor is receiving it at a slight delay from Imperial Center-"

"Where is the prisoner?" Vader interrupted brusquely. A flicker of tension seeped through his father's iron control. He'd closed himself down, a wall of ice between him and the world. 

The emperor was watching them. 

Luke couldn't sense him the way he could when the emperor spoke to his father in the hologram room. Palpatine was only watching a feed of what was going on; Luke supposed he wasn't present enough to leave an imprint in the Force that was strong enough for Luke to notice.

However, Luke was beginning to suspect from his father's reaction that Vader was having a very different experience. His father only built walls like that when his master's presence was near. Luke was fairly sure Luke could reach his father across half a galaxy if he focused hard enough; It was possible the emperor had forged a connection between Master and Apprentice that could do something similar.

Jerjerrod was gesturing ahead of them. "The prisoner is just here, my lord."

A space had been left clear for them in the center of the hangar bay. In a rather breathtaking moment of rudeness, Jerjerrod actually lifted his arm and snapped his fingers at several of the troopers standing by off to one side.

Beside him, Piett made an almost inaudible 'tssk' sound.

A moment later, two stormtroopers dragged a weakly struggling man out towards them, into the center of the hangar bay. There was such a strong sense of betrayal coming from the man Luke could almost taste it. 

Just slightly, Luke flinched.

His father tilted his head in Luke's direction without looking at him. His confident, ground-eating stride hesitated for a split-second before continuing on. Either Vader wasn't as closed off as he felt or Luke had flinched a lot more obviously than he thought.

Vader stopped when he was nearly within arms reach of the prisoner, looming over him. The man was looking up at Vader with bitterness on his face.

The worst part was, as soon as Luke reached to feel a sense of the prisoner's mind he knew his father had been right about one thing; If that man got the slightest chance, he would tell Palpatine everything. He would tell Jerjerrod everything. He would tell anyone everything. Honestly, Luke couldn't understand why he hadn't already.

"You have been caught in an act of treason, attempting to delay the construction of this battle station for your own pathetic monetary gain." Vader took a step forward, and something velvety-smooth slid into his voice. "Have you anything to say for yourself?" It almost sounded like he was enjoying himself, like he was telling a joke only he understood.

The prisoner (and Luke felt a twinge of conscience that he didn't even know the man's name), opened his mouth slightly. A flash of rage passed over his face, and he gritted his teeth in a silent snarl.

It was almost, Luke thought with creeping unease, like he couldn't speak. As if something was stopping him. Slowly, Luke turned his head toward Vader. 

Wanting to be wrong more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life, Luke reached out and tried to feel if someone was affecting the prisoner. He tried to feel the shape of what was happening to the man, the shape of someone pressing down on his vocal cords, someone taking his ability to speak and feeling amused enough to joke about it in front of the very person he was betraying by doing it- 

_Someone._ Luke stared at the flare of Vader's helmet. _Ha._

Luke couldn't sense all that much from his father at the moment, but he could sense enough. The moment didn't even feel personal to his father. It felt like a habit. Darth Vader making dark little jokes to himself, the only touch of levity he ever got out of life. Little flashes of amusement buried in the terrible things he did.

Disgust boiled up from Luke's stomach and pressed against the back of his teeth. This was nightmarish. This was a nightmare. This was _wrong._

His father had been saying something for the benefit of the assembled Imperials, something about remembering what happened to people who displeased the emperor; Luke was too distracted by his horrified realization to follow what was going on.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sudden swell of his father's power. Vader raised a hand and the prisoner lifted off his feet into the air, red-faced and clawing at his own throat. To Luke's surprise, the prisoner continued to rise, not stopping until he was far above them.

 _So everyone can see._ To motivate them, his father had said. Luke's stomach clenched; He felt sick. 

The emperor's observation be damned, this was too much to tolerate.

Luke took a step forward, reaching for his lightsaber. He had time to feel a brief, crushing feeling of loss. He would have to fight his father to get the man out of there, really fight him and-

Someone slapped a cuff on his wrist. Luke jerked in surprise, turning his head sharply.

Admiral Piett stared back at him with a stunningly bland expression, his face barely six inches away. Luke looked down incredulously. Piett had a similar band around his own wrist. He'd cuffed them together. 

Luke looked up at the prisoner, somehow still alive and kicking desperately, ten meters in the air. Then, in disbelief, back at Piett.

His thoughts were suddenly rolling over one another, a rush of collapsing sand over a bedrock of shocked realization; Piett had tricked him. With one click of cuffs he'd cornered Luke into an impossible situation.

The emperor was watching. If Luke snapped the cuffs the emperor would see it, and call it Piett's failure. Luke knew what that meant in the Empire; He would be a dead man. 

Even if Luke somehow managed to drag Piett along and got them all off the ship together, there was no chance he could ever beat his father in a way that would be believable. Not while trying to protect two other people in the middle of a hangar bay full of stormtroopers. If Vader let Luke escape the emperor would know, and Luke suspected when the emperor was done punishing him for that his father would wish he was a dead man.

Piett almost looked sorry for him. He wasn't a Jedi but Luke was sure he'd been following the train of Luke's thoughts precisely. He'd just put his life in Luke's hands by betting on Luke's character. Was he the sort of person to kill a friend or a family member to save a stranger?

Luke clenched his teeth and took his hand off the hilt of his lightsaber. 

A sliver of tension went out of Piett's shoulders. Luke wanted to hit him.

He turned back to his father, dread and disgust taking hold of his heart, knowing he would have to endure the next few moments. The man still hovered in the air, his kicking weakening. Luke expected every moment to be the end of it, but it kept going on and on. Vader wasn't just killing him, he was dragging it out, Luke thought with a chill. Luke could see the man coughing blood, could hear him wheezing, desperately getting his breath back. 

The sound put a heartbeat of doubt in his chest. 

Luke had jerked himself away from the Force with his first moment of horrified realization. When he opened up to it again, the instant he reached out every one of his assumptions flopped face-first into the sand. Across their connection, Luke could feel the churning storm of doubt raging in his father's heart. Vader was closed down tightly enough that the echo was faint; It was like hearing a scream from another room. 

His father was beyond conflicted. He could barely focus on what he was doing. Luke could feel the dark side slipping through Vader's hands like he was trying to grab a fistful of engine oil.

Luke sucked in a sharp breath. His father could feel Luke's pain and disgust, and he couldn't force himself to stand firm against it. He wasn't dragging the execution out; _He couldn't make himself do it._

Despite the horrible situation they were all in, Luke felt a flicker of something like awe. Seeing Darth Vader, Sith Lord and slaughterer of thousands, suddenly balk at murder like he'd just turned and discovered his conscience lying forgotten on the ground felt like witnessing a minor miracle. 

Luke could see in the Force that in a moment the man's injuries wouldn't be survivable anymore, but he could also see that Vader was too caught up in his own struggle to notice.

Without warning, he felt Vader's shields crack a little. All of a sudden Luke could sense him a lot more clearly. It felt strange, almost like his father was being squeezed, and he was somehow pushing his feelings at Luke to relieve the pressure. What Luke caught from him was a surprisingly intense, rising desperation.

The Force hissed a warning in Luke's ear. With a flare of concern, Luke reached out to his father. 

To his shock, he realized someone was pressing at his father's shields like they'd put the tip of a knife to his chest and had started leaning their weight on it. An ever-sharpening point of curiosity was working its way to his father's heart a fraction at a time. 

The emperor had started to wonder what Vader was doing.

Palpatine was a million lightyears from the possibility of ever being close enough to Luke to reach him at a distance. His father, however, was a very different story. 

Luke flashed on the moment in the hologram room when he'd seen the strings of Palpatine's power resting in the grooves he'd worn into his father's soul. Luke could only sense the emperor through what his father was feeling, but one thing rang clearly through his father's mind; Palpatine knew how to overpower him. He'd had a lot of practice.

The prisoner wobbled in the air, and Luke felt his father nearly drop him. The man coughed, spraying blood. One of the officers in the front row flinched and turned his face away. Piett was starting to radiate uneasiness and Palpatine's curiosity was edging into suspicion and Luke could feel in another moment his father was going to physically take a step back at the sheer strength Palpatine was leveraging on him-

The prisoner's head snapped to the left with a great deal of force, breaking his neck cleanly.

His father jolted, turning his head toward Luke in disbelief.

There was a sour taste in Luke's mouth. He looked at his outstretched hand like it belonged to someone else.

Vader dropped the prisoner, their former ally, like he was discarding a broken doll on the ground. It wasn't intentional; Luke could feel his concentration had fractured in shock. 

Luke lowered his hand, looking at the body of the man he'd just killed. He felt cold. 

He didn't think he'd used the dark side -he couldn't imagine using it without being able to tell- but he had a weird feeling that in this case it didn't matter. There hadn't been a good choice available to him, but there had been a choice, and he'd made it. 

Far away, someone started to laugh. Luke could barely hear it. It was only the echo of a sound ringing through his father's mind.

Somewhere, Palpatine was cackling in delight. 

The pressure the emperor had been putting on Vader had dropped all at once. That was good, because Luke could feel that his father's shields had fallen in pieces all around him. Vader twitched a little, and then Luke heard the echo of someone else's thought through his father's mind.

_You have done well, my apprentice._

Palpatine spoke as if he thought Vader had planned all along to make the execution so unbearable Luke would break and kill the man himself. The emperor sounded proud of Vader for taking initiative. An enemy of the Empire was dead at Luke's hands and another step had been taken along his path to damnation. Palpatine withdrew from his father in satisfaction at a job well done.

Luke recoiled, feeling like he'd dropped his heart on the deck. _A step taken._

He wasn't sure the emperor was wrong.

His father made a move toward him, his presence in the Force tightening in anguish and self-recrimination. Hatred for his own weakness was actively eating the thoughts from his mind, but words were humming underneath the surface, like engine noise in a cockpit. _No, no, he can't I didn't I wouldn't..._ Just slightly, his father lifted a hand toward him. There was something pleading about it. _Forgive me_ , without words.

For just a moment, Luke hated him.

Vader froze solid.

Luke ignored him. He took a long breath and let the feeling go like he was letting a bird fly from his hands, the way Yoda had taught him. He was officially done worrying about his father's feelings for the day. He'd had enough. He wanted to go somewhere and think about the sound of Obi-wan's voice and the steady feeling of Yoda in the Force and Leia's face when she smiled.

Luke shook his head and took a step back. It tugged at his wrist, and he glanced down in surprise; He'd forgotten about the cuffs. With a surge of emotion he couldn't have begun to identify, he snapped the cuff with the Force, jerking his hand free.

Without looking at his father, he turned and walked back to the shuttle. Luke met Piett's eyes for half a second as he pushed past him. Piett's eyes widened a little at whatever he saw in Luke's expression. At that moment, Luke couldn't have cared less.

**Author's Note:**

> upon careful consideration, why not make this a multi-chapter fic


End file.
